#*chapter 12 end notes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dailynnt · 19 days ago

Text

QUARTER PAST FOUR

⏲︎ Summary: You haven’t seen him in two months. Not since that night you told him you wanted more — and he vanished. But tonight, while you’re trying to move on, laughing beside another man in a crowded nightclub… you see him. Those same dark eyes. That same smirk that undresses you with a glance. He used to come to you at 4:15 AM. No calls. No words. Just him, and your body, and that dangerous kind of love that leaves you bleeding. Now he’s back. And you’re about to find out if your heart can survive him a second time.

︎⏲︎ Couple: Jeon Jungkook x Reader, Jungkook x Y/N

⏲︎ Age restrictions: 18+

⏲︎ Size: mini series (12 500+ words)

⏲︎ Chapters: #01 | #02 | #03

⏲︎ Tags: ex situationship, smut, angst, toxic relationship, dom!Jungkook, emotionally vulnerable!Reader, crime, mention murder, emotional damage, pining, obsession, mutual desire, hot and cold dynamic, fwb turned heartbreak, slow burn (kind of), breakup aftermath, late night regrets, he comes back, still not over you, you can’t resist him, painfully in love, emotional manipulation, denial of feelings, he knows what he’s doing, dominant jungkook, rough sex, public teasing, car sex, dirty talk, jealous sex, praise kink, possessive jungkook, desperate need, wet panties, he ghosted you, you fell first, he fell later, reader has self-respect but also horny, he always finds his way back, you said it was the last time (but it wasn’t)

⏲︎ From author: Note at the end of the story👇🏻 Once again, I couldn't keep it short 🤭

⏲︎ Dedication: to love of my life @curse-of-art. My beloved, this is dedicated to you because you love every version of my Jungkook. I love you with all my heart and soul 🫠🥰💗

⏲︎ Permanent tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @someoneelse0109, @kooklovee, @kookiesncreamri, @kooko009, @bhonbhon, @smokinghotstargirl, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @indigomoonchild09, @goldenboysmuse, @hisdecalcomania17, @ggingerismm, @tranquilreign, @asyr97, @mar-lo-pap, @diame93, @kash98, @mellyyyyyyx, @bts-ruu (If anyone wants to be add to my permanent list of tags, let me know 🥰)

⏲︎ Warning: This fanfic contains explicit sexual content, toxic dynamics, emotional angst, manipulation, jealousy, and messy unresolved feelings. If you’re sensitive to themes of heartbreak, obsession, or unhealthy attachment — please read with caution. Also, English is not my first language, so there may be awkward phrasing or unusual sentence constructions here and there 🥺 Thank you for your understanding 🙂‍↕️

The nightclub pulsated with lights and rhythm. Any heavy thoughts dissolved in the bass vibrations in your chest. Alcohol, human bodies, smoke, and light—everything merged into one endless night. You sat on the sofa with your colleagues — after a stressful week, it was a well-deserved rest. Instead of the usual trip to a restaurant with grilled beef and soju, one of your colleagues, Inha, suggested going to a club, and everyone agreed that it was a good idea.

Your glass was not yet empty, and the smile you gave the guy next to you seemed sincere. He was new to the department, handsome, and easy to talk to. His hand accidentally touched your shoulder, his jokes made you laugh, and you felt the attention you had been missing for so long.

Each cocktail seemed to relieve the tension from your shoulders. The image of one man who had been haunting you for a long time was fading. His features were blurring, disappearing somewhere in the fog of the night lights.

And now all you saw was Donmin. His attentive gaze. His closeness. His desire, which was evident in his every movement.

You hadn't had sex in over two months. Not since Jungkook disappeared. The thought of giving yourself to someone else finally stopped seeming impossible. It lit up in your head like a green light, alarming and seductive.

The evening continued. For the first time in a long time, your mood was genuinely positive. Four cocktails brought a sense of lightness and carefreeness. And when Donmin sat closer, touching your thighs with his, you did not pull away.

"Are you sure you can handle another one?" His voice was soft, his gaze playful. You clamped the straw between your lips and sipped the liquid, feeling the bitter taste of the cocktail on your tongue.

"I'm much tougher than you think," you smiled. You weren't trying to be seductive. But it came naturally. His gaze lingered on your lips, then slowly rose to your eyes. Donmin leaned closer, his hot breath touching your ear.

"I want to kiss you," he whispered.

But his words were like background noise mixed with loud bass. Your eyes met a gaze you didn't expect to see. Eyes you swore you would never look for again. And yet... they were looking at you.

A few tables ahead of yours, you saw Jungkook. He was watching you intently — and you didn't know how long he had been staring. But when your eyes met his, a cheeky, familiar smile slowly appeared on his lips, sending a wave of heat through your body.

Jungkook. The man who caused you emotional pain. The man you fell in love with, even though you had no right to.

You knew what he was like — not someone who would offer a serious relationship, not someone with whom you would have a happy marriage. But there was something magnetic about him. Something that made every cell in your body burn with endless fire.

You turned away.

You took a sip of your cocktail, trying to hide behind your glass. You turned away so you wouldn't see him anymore — not his eyes, not his smile.

But your heart was already pounding like crazy.

And Donmin noticed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning a little closer.

"Yes," you replied, forcing a smile. But inside, your insides felt like they were being beaten with a spoon.

Donmin looked awkward because he had confessed that he wanted to kiss you. But you didn't notice that; you were trying to control the wave of emotions inside you. He thought you had taken his confession too seriously.

"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry if I was pushy..." he said guiltily. You looked up at him and tried to understand what he meant for a few seconds, and when you understood, you decided to smooth things over.

"It's okay, I like you too, but I don't want to rush things," you said kindly. He nodded in agreement, relieved, and continued talking to you.

The other colleagues who came with you to the club returned to the table after dancing. You tried to hold back, but the thought of Jungkook being there, and so close, made you feel noticeably nervous.

You accidentally glanced in his direction while watching a colleague tell a story and saw Jongkook's face again. He was still sitting at that table in the company of men. You saw his profile, the line of his jaw that you had studied so well with your lips. He was turned toward his friend and laughing. You saw his nose wrinkle and his double piercing glint in the neon light. His satisfied smile made your heart ache. Jungkook was indecently attractive, and you didn't know how he could be even more attractive to you, considering the fact that he had disappeared without any explanation.

You met him a little over four months ago.

It was your colleague's friend's party in honor of her thirtieth birthday. You didn't expect anything special from that day — just another birthday, another evening in the company of friends and strangers. Sajin invited you to a restaurant and said she would introduce you to some guy named Jungkook, her boyfriend's friend. She said you would like him when she heard about your passion for tattoos.

You went to that party without any hope of meeting anyone, you even forgot that your friend had reminded you several times that he would be there too.

You were terribly late to the restaurant because you had a problem with the dress you had to buy at the last minute. You arrived by taxi. Thanking the driver on the way, you quickly got out of the car, holding a lush bouquet of flowers and a large gift package in your hands.

The heels on your shoes didn't hold you properly because you were in a hurry, and you stumbled several times.

Looking to make sure you didn't catch your skirt, you didn't see where you were going and almost ran into a man in front of the restaurant entrance.

He held you with his hands so you wouldn't fall.

"Hey, be careful," you heard his voice. You didn't look up, walking away while still feeling his hands on your forearms. You bowed quickly several times, apologizing.

But when you looked up and saw him, your heart skipped a beat.

The first thing you saw were his eyes.

Dark, heavy, with a gaze that seemed to read you instantly. And then — the tattoo. It started at his fingers, ran up his entire right arm and disappeared somewhere under the edge of his T-shirt, peeking out from behind his collar and touching his collarbone.

The design was colorful, graphic, with thick lines. His lips were adorned with a double piercing.

The metal rings glistened in the light of the sun. And, damn it, it looked... damn attractive.

His hair was dark, parted in the middle, with a falling fringe.

A black T-shirt hugged his body, emphasizing his muscles. And on his hips were classic black pants. He was dressed stylishly, but his image was completely rebellious.

You stared at him for too long and only came to your senses when he smiled playfully.

"The party hasn't started yet, you're just in time," he said, looking you up and down. And the way he did it so brazenly and slowly made you feel like you'd been electrocuted.

Your heart sank. Your breath caught in your throat. You nodded with a slight smile, hiding your nervousness behind restraint.

"Thank you," you said, walking past the guy and hurrying to the restaurant. Not seeing him turn around, take out a cigarette, and keep his eyes on your figure.

Later, Sajin introduced you officially.

"This is Jungkook," she said. "He's my Jimin's best friend. They grew up together," and then you realized that this was the same guy your friend had wanted to introduce you to for so long.

"Nice to meet you," you replied, but he didn't shake your hand.

He lingered his eyes on your lips and said,

"Nice to meet you too," he smiled as if he had already decided he wanted you. You had a short conversation in front of Sajin, and as he was leaving, he said, "See you later."

You had a good time, and constantly keeping your eye on Jungkook. His gaze constantly met yours, and you couldn't help but notice the spark that ignited between you instantly. Jungkook was with his friends for a while, but when your eyes lingered longer, he decided to approach you.

You talked, he asked you a lot of questions, and you willingly answered. And when you tried to ask him something about himself, he skillfully avoided the questions, distracting you with casual touches, questions about your jewelry or dress.

Towards the end of the party, you became even closer to Jungkook. You remember wanting to dance, so you went to the dance floor. You asked him to dance with you, but he remained standing by the table where you were drinking champagne. You moved with a feeling of freedom and lightness, and suddenly felt him standing behind you. His palm touched your thigh. You turned around to meet his playful eyes. You smiled seductively, touching his crotch with your buttocks.

He endured only a few movements, then leaned over and whispered in your ear:

"You shouldn't tease me with your sweet buttocks, otherwise I can't be held responsible for my actions."

His breath and low voice in your ear sent a wave of goosebumps down your body, awakening your desire.

You continued to rub against his crotch, pressing so that there was not even a millimeter between you. Your back touched his chest, and his palms rested on your thighs, as if that was the place they were meant to be.

"Am I really teasing you?" you asked innocently. Jungkook squeezed your thighs with his fingers, and you could clearly feel his cock getting hard. He turned your face, moving in time with you and the music. The people around you seemed not to notice you, just as you did not notice them. Jongkook stared at your lips, and you couldn't take your eyes off him.

"You've teased me and you must be punished for it," he said. Your lips spread into a cheeky smile, and the next moment his lips were already on yours. His tongue entered your mouth, intertwining with yours. He was persistent, his lips soft and demanding at the same time. You felt yourself getting wet. His cock was pressing against your buttocks, and all you wanted was for Jungkook to fuck you.

You weren't a fan of sex on the first date or with a stranger, but Jungkook completely changed your views. He broke away from your lips, still holding you close. He looked into your eyes for a few seconds, seeing only complete desire and your consent. He took your hand and silently led you to the bathroom.

He fucked you right on the table by the sink. Jungkook was dominant but attentive to every part of your body. He touched you, bringing you to blissful pleasure like no one else before him. He did everything to make sure you got the most pleasure, and his dirty talk during sex enhanced the effect of his actions. That evening, you had the best orgasms of your life and were glad you let it happen.

He smiled at you in the mirror after he came on you, his forehead covered in sweat. You quickly cleaned yourselves up and returned to the hall unnoticed.

In the early morning, he drove you home in his car. The black Genesis GV80 matched his image, and he looked so natural behind the wheel of this car.

As you said goodbye, Jungkook kissed you and you exchanged numbers.

And you remember that you didn't expect a message or a call from him. You thought Jungkook looked like the type who had casual relationships. But when he came to your house the next evening, you definitely didn't expect it, and you were pleasantly surprised that he actually remembered where you lived. But he remembered.

And since then, he started coming over. Late. No calls, no warnings. He just showed up — sometimes at night, sometimes in the early morning. You got used to waiting for him, and he came. At first, it was less often, but then more and more often. Each of your meetings began with a glance, a casual conversation. And ended with sex.

It wasn't love. You weren't a couple. You just became friends with benefits, with crazy sex that was like a drug for both of you. Your meetings continued for several months until Jungkook disappeared.

You turned your head away so he wouldn't notice your gaze. It was getting harder and harder to be in that club.

You warned that you were going to the bathroom when your bladder was overflowing. You got up, leaving your glass on the table, and headed for the hallway. People were crowded around the entrance to the restroom — some were smoking, some were kissing, laughing, holding hands. The space was stuffy and filled with the scents of perfume, smoke, and alcohol.

You went into the women's restroom. You closed the door. You just sat down, sighed, and closed your eyes for a few seconds.

It was supposed to be a normal evening. It was supposed to be a step forward. But everything was pulling you back again.

When you came out, your thoughts had calmed down a little. Until the moment when you were almost back at the entrance to the hall — you bumped into him.

Jungkook was standing right in front of you.

As always, he was calm, confident, almost defiantly relaxed.

You took a step to the side, trying to walk past him, but he took a step with you, blocking your way. You tried again to walk past him, but at that moment, his hand rested on your waist. You felt yourself being pressed against the cold wall.

"Did you really want to walk past without even saying hello?" he asked quietly but defiantly. Your jaw tensed.

"Does someone who ran away as soon as they heard a confession of love need a greeting?" you replied sarcastically.

He smiled.

He slowly ran his fingers down your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Have you fallen out of love with me so quickly that you don't even want to say 'hello'?"

You were angry that he had the audacity to mention your feelings for him.

"Go to hell," you said clearly, clenching your teeth. He grimaced as if he had heard something really unpleasant, but with a playful note.

"You shouldn't be mad at me," his smile didn't fade. "We agreed it was just sex. I didn't know you would take it so seriously."

You raised your eyebrows, and the memory of night when you see him at the last time flashed unpleasantly through your mind.

You were in your bathroom. It was almost 5 a.m., and Jungkook often came at 4:15 a.m. Lately, he had been coming at exactly that time. When you asked him why he came at that time almost every morning, you only got a long, greedy kiss and the words, "I missed my favorite pussy."

You wanted to hear that he missed you, not the opportunity to fuck you.

Jungkook also often came home with scratches, which you carefully treated. Your intuition screamed that he was involved in something... dark. But you kept quiet and didn't ask any more questions. Because you saw how he avoided them, and you wanted him. Only him.

You began to feel that sex alone was no longer enough for you. You wanted this man not only at night, you wanted him to be with you during the day as well. The way he treated you, being attentive and caring after sex, created the illusion of mutual feelings that seemed to offer hope. But as it turned out, Jungkook had a completely different perception of your relationship.

He was deep inside you. You sat on top of him, pressed tightly against his body under the citrus-scented water. Foam covered your hands, and warm water spilled out every time he moved sharply inside you, trying to go deeper, stimulating your G-spot with his large, thick cock.

You merged in another passionate kiss, which was never enough. Jungkook fucked you, enjoying the tightness of your pussy.

You broke the kiss and pressed your forehead against his, moaning with pleasure. He kissed your neck, moving inside you, and you whispered:

"Kook..." He didn't answer, just continued kissing and fucking you. "I feel so good... I feel so good with you..." you said between moans. Hearing your words, Jongkook looked up at you and quickened his movements. You, in turn, moved to meet his hips.

You opened your eyes and saw him looking at you with burning eyes.

"Maybe we should see each other more often... Not just at night?" you asked, pausing for a moment. Jungkook also froze at your question, then thrust into you as deeply as possible, knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Are you really so greedy for my cock that you want to see me more often?" he smiled playfully. But there was no lightness in his gaze. You remembered how to breathe, feeling blissful pleasure between your legs.

"No... It's just... I think we could spend more time together," you tried to catch your breath while Jungkook rhythmically fucked you, while you wanted to say important things. He looked at you without taking his eyes off you. "I want to be closer to you..." you gathered your courage and said, "You... are constantly on my mind, and I feel like I feel something more than just physical attraction to you."

Jungkook stopped, and you felt something stir in your lower abdomen. His face was serious, but when he spoke, his voice sounded mocking:

"Are you in love with me?"

You didn't expect him to ask that question directly. And you weren't ready to say it right now, but what you felt for Jungkook was love. It was clear from the way he never left your thoughts, from the way you liked absolutely everything about him: his eyes, his nose, his lips, his jawline, every mole, the one under his lip and the one on his neck specifically, his voice, his soft hair, his tattoos, his piercings, his body, his fingers, his laugh, his humor, his way of thinking. There was nothing you didn't like about him.

"What will you do if it's true?" you asked. Jungkook raised one eyebrow, and you could clearly see the smirk on his face and that he wasn't being serious. He suddenly grabbed your waist with one hand and held your butt under the water with the other. You found yourself a few inches from his lips:

"Stop it," he interrupted coldly. "What people call 'love' will never be between us," he said seriously, and those words cut you like a knife. You wanted to get off him, to escape from the bathtub. But he held you, forced you to stay, not letting you get off, moving even deeper — and your weakness won again.

When you woke up in the afternoon, he was no longer there. You waited until the next morning, but he didn't come. You waited for the next few days, a week, and not a word, not a message from him. He disappeared. He just disappeared without explanation.

So now, looking at him, you feel the unbearable pain you suffered when he left, breaking your heart. For the first time, you sincerely wanted to slap someone.

"I don't want to know you, take your hands off me," you said, trying to break free from his grip, but without success. His body is too strong against yours.

He leaned closer, touched your temple with his nose, slid to your ear, and whispered:

"I don't believe you didn't miss me. Because I missed you. A lot."

You could barely contain yourself, your heart was pounding, and those damn butterflies were fluttering in your stomach. But you couldn't give in to him just because he said he missed you. If he really missed you, why didn't he come back sooner? Where had he been for the past two months? You raised your eyebrows even higher and said spitefully:

"I'm here with my colleague. I already have a partner. So I don't have time to miss you."

Jungkook's face tensed, but he smiled again.

"Is that the clown who was sitting next to you? All you did was laugh at him. He really does look like a joke."

You smiled too, realizing that you had hit him hard.

"Clown or no, he has every chance of fucking me tonight," you said cheekily. "And with you... it's over. So stop holding me back. Let go!" you said colorlessly.

The muscles in Jungkook's jaw twitched. He nervously touched the tip of his piercing with his tongue.

"You know," he leaned toward your lips, his voice becoming hoarse, "that no one fucks your pussy better than me."

Your pulse pounded in your temples. Your pupils dilated. You held your breath. And at that moment, his lips fell on yours — greedily, deeply, with all the passion that still lived between you.

At first you tried to pull away, but you gave up. His hands slid down to your buttocks, one sliding up your thigh to where the incision was. His palm touched your buttock and squeezed it hard. You felt yourself getting wet — just from that kiss. When he pulled away, you were both breathing heavily.

"I want you. Right now..." Jungkook whispered lowly, touching your forehead with his.

"No. I can't… I'm with my colleagues... I'm already long time to gone. They'll be looking for me..." you said, trying to stop it from happening. Even though it was what you had wanted so badly for the past few damn months. Jongkook just smiled, not taking your lame excuses seriously. His thumb touched your lips, pressing them gently.

"The parking lot. In ten minutes. I'll be waiting," he leaned down, bit your lower lip, and left.

You stood there, confused and excited. You couldn't gather your thoughts after everything that had happened. You tried to calm down. You adjusted your skirt. You took a deep breath. And you walked back to the table. You returned to your colleagues with a forced smile, trying to appear calm, but everything inside you was trembling. Your body was pulsing. Your legs felt like cotton. And in your head... there was only him.

You sat down next to Donmin, mechanically picked up your cocktail and took a few sips without hearing a word. In your imagination, Jungkook's gaze, his hands, his lips on yours were still burning.

Your body had already made its choice — it wanted him. So much so that it seemed you would go mad if you didn't feel him again.

But your mind was on fire. You needed to restrain yourself and not go to him. If you didn't go now, you might save yourself from further pain, which was only just beginning to subside. Perhaps if you don't go, you will finally become stronger and show Jungkook that he has no power over you. However, it was enough to remember his voice for a moment and how he said he wanted you to realize that you had lost this battle with yourself. Once again.

"I'm sorry... I... I need to make a call, it's very urgent..." you muttered, leaning toward Donmin, feigning shy guilt.

"It's okay. Don't rush," he smiled, completely unaware of what you were about to do.

Your feet carried you across the hall, through the neon lights, through the music that no longer mattered. You stepped outside. The cool air hit your face. You held your breath.

"I'm crazy," you said to yourself and moved on.

The parking lot was dimly lit. Cars were parked in rows. Jungkook was standing there leaning against the hood of his black Genesis, smoking. The closer you got, the faster your heart beat, but your need for this man was stronger than any emotion or fear inside you.

Jungkook was wearing a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves that exposed his tattoos. His piercing glinted in the light of the streetlamp when he turned his head. Jungkook threw away his cigarette butt when he noticed you.

The look he gave you...

If looks could undress, you would already be naked.

"You came," he said with a smile, as if it couldn't be any other way.

You were silent. You just stood a few steps away from him. And he approached you. Closer.

His fingers touched your cheek, lightly, barely... and you felt that hot wave inside you start to burn again.

Jungkook kissed you, turning you toward the car and pressing you against it. It’s felt like fireworks inside you. Jungkook kissed you desperately, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

You clenched your fingers into his shirt at the back, moving your lips and tongue against his with no less passion. The desire that had been building up for two months burst out. And no one could stop you anymore.

When you found yourselves in the back seat of the car, he pulled you toward him, and you ended up on his lap. His lips pressed against yours again — hot, greedy. His hands tugged at your blouse, and you were already unbuttoning his belt.

Your breath was ragged, and your heart was pounding as if it were about to burst out of your chest. You felt his fingers find you under your skirt, sliding suddenly to the wet center of your desire.

"You're already wet... for me, aren't you?" he whispered, squeezing your thigh.

You moaned as his movements on your clitoris became more intense. Jungkook watched your face with great pleasure, smearing the wetness between your folds, bringing you closer to orgasm.

You sating on him, face to face, and you could feel how aroused he was. His cock pressed right into your center, making you want more.

"I missed this pussy so much..." he whispered, pulling you close to him, his voice rough with desire. Leaving your pussy, his hands remove your blouse and he brazenly pushes your bra up to see your breasts. His fingers — confident, slightly rough, with scars on his knuckles — squeeze your nipples, playing with them while he kisses you.

Your moans merge with his breathing as Jungkook's tongue penetrates your mouth. He tastes you greedily, and your head is already spinning with pleasure, with Jungkook and the sensations he evokes in you.

Jungkook's lips slide down to your neck, biting your skin, leaving marks like seals of his right to you. You move your hips, making his cock harder. Jungkook squeezes your breasts with his palms and kisses them. His tongue sucks on your nipple. You watch Jungkook suck your nipple, running your fingers through his hair.

He with big pleasure your breasts while pressing your buttocks with his other hand, forcing you to rub against his cock. You hear his low growl, which sends shivers down your spine, and inside, everything tightens into a tight ball of anticipation.

"Take it off," he whispers, helping you slip off your skirt. You rise for a moment to pull down your panties — they're wet, just like you are.

He unzips his jeans, frees himself, and your eyes involuntarily drop — he is hard, ready, his tip glistening with excitement.

Jungkook grabs your waist and forces you onto him. You gasp, near his ear, holding your breath, feeling the pain. But the feeling of being filled with his cock is what you love most.

"Fuck..." he moaned, plunging into you all the way. A soft whimper escaped your lips , overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure that engulfs you.

Jungkook begins to move his hips, and you instantly feel pleasure. He picks up the pace, and you cannot hold back the moans that accompany every movement of your bodies. Jungkook kisses you deeply, sweetly. He parts your lips and smiles. You move your hips to meet his, feeling every inch of his cock inside you.

"Yes, yes... just like that..." you whisper, squeezing his shoulders, giving in to the rhythm that turns you into pure desire. Your body is on fire, his touch is like fire.

"It’s good to you, baby?" Jungkook asks you with a cheeky smile on his lips, not stopping for a second.

"Yes," you say as you exhale.

"Hmm..." he grunts, "Yeah... it’s right no one fucks this pussy better than me."

Jungkook pressed you even tighter, as if wanting to convey all the power of his desire to you. His hands squeezed your buttocks harder. You felt your pulse beating in your temples, and every touch ignited you from within to an incredible heat.

Jungkook rose a little higher to increase the depth of penetration, and you felt a wave of even greater pleasure wash over your entire body. His movements became faster and more decisive, as if he wanted to drown himself in all this long-awaited pain and desire. Your heart was beating so loudly that it seemed even the night could hear it. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the strength and tension of his muscles under your fingers.

You felt him harden inside you, and your walls felt the approach of pleasure, but Jungkook stopped. You opened your eyes to meet his full, hungry gaze. Your body begged for more.

"I want you from behind," his voice was low, slightly breathless. He lifted you up and you climbed off his lap. You turned around, kneeling with your back to him. Jungkook positioned himself behind you and his hands instantly slid around your waist, gently but firmly. His breath—burning, hot—touched your back. He made a trail of kisses along your spine.

Jungkook straightened up and, placing the head of his cock at your entrance, entered you again with one sharp thrust. You heard him moan. And it was so sexy.

"Yes. That's how you look perfect. My obedient girl..." He covered you with his body, touched your shoulder blade with his lips and whispered, "Hold on. Because I won't spare you," said Jungkook, finding your clitoris with his fingers. He smeared your wetness, stimulating you.

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back a moan, but the rhythm of his fingers and thrusts quickly made you let go of all restraint. His movements were somewhat rough but precise — he knew how to hit every sensitive spot inside you.

His lips touched your ear and you felt his heavy breathing, which made you even more desperate.

"You're so quiet today," Jungkook remarked, "I want to hear you, don't hold back your moans for me, baby. Scream," he commanded.

You obeyed him and no longer held back your voice, and your moans echoed loudly, filling the entire space between you.

Jungkook sped up, going wild, merging with you into a single body burning with passion. You felt the wave of orgasm already at the threshold, but he suddenly stopped again.

"It's not time yet," he said in a low voice. "I want you longer..." He turned you back around abruptly, lifted you onto his lap again, pressed his lips to yours, and kissed you so that you felt like you were floating in the endless ocean of his passion.

He turned you around and sat you on his cock. You felt it slide inside you. Jungkook's hands squeezed your breasts, and his lips kissed your neck. You grabbed the driver's seat for some support. His hands slid down to your hips, and he began to fuck you frantically.

Jungkook moved with such fury and power that you had no chance of forgetting reality. Each thrust was deep and penetrating, making your body tremble with excitement and pain at the same time, mixing sweet pleasure and sharp passion. You felt every cell, every nerve enveloped in a burning fire that grew stronger with each of his movements.

He possessed you, knew your every secret desire and subtly manipulated them. His fingers slid to your clitoris, stimulating you further, and his lips left hot marks on your neck and shoulders, like a brand confirming that you belonged only to him.

You swear that no one could fuck you better than him, and that made you happy and annoyed at the same time.

But you couldn't think about the messed-up relationship between you; all you could think and feel was the approaching wave of pleasure.

Jungkook squeezed your thighs, lifting you up and lowering you back down with incredible force. You felt every movement bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

The explosion of orgasm overwhelmed you like a storm, you clenched your fingers on the seat you were holding onto, surrendering to every wave of pleasure, and he didn't stop, putting all his strength and desire into every movement. You felt him accelerating to his peak, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you wanted to remembered that moment forever.

"I'm... going to..." he muttered, and at that moment you felt Jungkook spill inside you. His cock twitched, releasing his semen. Jungkook pressed his forehead against your back, and soon you both froze.

Your breathing was heavy. You sat on his cock for a while, recovering from your orgasm. And when you finally came to your senses, you moved. Jungkook straightened up behind you too. You felt him caressing your thighs, as if to calm you, and then one of his hands reached for your chin and he turned you toward him.

Jungkook's lips were on yours, his tongue entered your mouth unhindered, completely taking possession of yours. You kissed, putting an end to today's moment of passion. When he separated your lips, you clearly understood what had happened, and the awkwardness of the moment began to weigh on you.

You turned away and climbed off his lap, sitting down next to him. You silently began to get dressed, feeling Jungkook's gaze on you. He sat with his legs spread, naked. His cock glistened with your juices and his cum.

"Are you just going to leave silently?" Jungkook broke the silence. You felt a twinge inside from his rough, low voice, the one you loved to hear more than anything else in the world.

"What am I supposed to say?" you asked, pulling your skirt over your hips. Jungkook leaned toward your face, his lips almost touching yours. You stared at his lips, frozen.

"I don't know. Something like you've been waiting for your best orgasm for months and it finally happened," you raised your eyebrows. You forgot how rough and harsh he was in his words. "Or that you missed me and still love me..."

Jungkook seemed to be mocking you. And you couldn't let him enjoy the fact that you were suffering from unrequited love for him.

"All I can tell you now is that it was the last time. My parting gift to you," you smiled confidently and slowly, seeing his confusion, which he tried so hard to hide. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, and you put on your blouse and started buttoning it up. Your fingers were shaking, and you wanted to leave his car as quickly as possible.

"In what sense parting gift?" Jungkook asked, and you felt the tension in his voice.

"Literally. I don't want to see you anymore," you turned to him, trying not to look down. "I've been through it all. And I don't need your attention anymore. I'll find another man who will love me, not just want to fuck me," you got fully dressed, ready to go.

"Really?" Jungkook raised his eyebrow mockingly. "Is your clown first in line for that role?"

You gave him a cold look, then moved toward the door. You knew it wasn't locked, and that made you happy.

"All the best," you said, opening the car door and stepping out into the cool night, feeling Jungkook on every inch of your body.

You returned to your colleagues and spent the rest of the night in their company. Your mind was far away from them and their conversations. Your thoughts kept returning to Jungkook and the sex you had in his car. You don't really regret what happened. You want to put an end to your strange relationship with him, which in essence was not a relationship at all. However, you are almost powerless when he is around.

If it didn't hurt so much, you would forget Jungkook and find a man worthy of you who would want you not only at night, but also during the day. Jungkook is not a guy for a serious relationship, and you made a mistake falling in love with him.

Donmin, who never left your side, seemed like a really nice guy. So you let him sit closer, touch you, but his touch didn't spark anything. It wasn't like with Jungkook, who made your skin tingle from the very first touch. You sat next to him, barely listening to him, feeling Jungkook's semen dripping onto your underwear.

And again, the image of the one you wanted to erase is in your head. His eyes. His breath. His cock inside you. His voice...

"You know that no one fucks your pussy better than me..." These words cut deep, yet they also aroused you. You want he gone... You closed your eyes. You decided that this was the end. That this was the final nail in the coffin. A parting gift. But your body... it was as if it still belonged to him.

But the way he treated you led to a sober realization: he disappeared without explanation, and that says a lot. You didn't know where he had been all this time, what he had been doing, or with who he was. So how could you let someone back in who had already broken you with his silence?

Forget him. Erase him. It's over. But something else echoes in your head: No one can replace him. His warmth. His voice. His body. The way he looked at you after...

You squeezed your legs tighter. Feeling how the wetness still reminded you of him. Of him inside you. And you knew — love doesn't disappear so quickly.

It just hides under anger. Under pain. Under feigned indifference.

But now... Now you didn't want to play this war with yourself anymore.

"If only my eyes hadn't seen..." you thought. Because then, maybe your heart would have forgotten. But the truth was different. It was love. Painful, wrong, not the kind that brought pleasant feelings, but the kind that left deep wounds that hurt.

In the early morning, you let Donmin walk you home. He was kind, attentive, gentle. He said something — you nodded. But you hardly heard him.

When you stopped in front of the house, Donmin hugged you goodbye, saying he would see you at work. You hugged him back and said that if he wanted to, he could call. That was your way of hinting that you were open to developing your relationship. Donmin was more than happy and asked if he could call later that day to see how you were feeling, and you nodded, saying you would eagerly await to it. He nodded and left.

You went into the house. You took off your shoes, threw your purse on the nightstand, and removed your earrings. Your fingers touched the collar of your blouse, and the fatigue slipped from your shoulders. You began to undress. Everything in you wanted to be cleansed—your soul and your body. You headed toward the bathroom. Something unpleasant stirred in your chest. Donmin was a chance to start a new, healthy relationship, but somewhere deep inside, you weren't ready for it.

You touched the zipper on your skirt and pulled it down. The skirt fell to the floor and you were left in your underwear. You picked up the skirt, clutching it in your hands. The memory of how Jungkook had lifted it up on you today made you feel a wave of excitement and sadness. You involuntarily glanced at the clock on the dresser and saw that it was 4:14. Before your eyes, the minute changed and now the clock showed 4:15. Your heart quickened. This was the same time that Jungkook often came to see you. Almost every morning at 4:15, he was at your door, and you waited for him. You let him in, feeling your feelings grow with each passing day. And when he was last at your place at this time and you confessed your feelings to him, he never came back at that time again.

The sound of the doorbell broke the silence and knocked all thoughts out of your head.

No.

It couldn't be him. But who could be coming to see you at this hour?

You threw on your robe and approached the door. You didn't want to look through the peephole. You didn't want to be disappointed if it wasn't him, or, on the contrary, to see him there and be afraid to open the door. You grabbed the handle. The coolness of the metal brought you back to reality. You pressed the button and opened the door.

Jungkook was standing on your doorstep. He was dressed the same as when you saw him today. He slowly raised his head when you opened the door and your eyes met. It was a moment that seemed so familiar, but it was not the same as before. Because now you weren't waiting for him to spend another night with him. You didn't expect to see him again, but he came as before. At the same time.

"What are you doing here?" escaped from your lips. Your voice was neither joyful nor sad. It sounded dry, a little harsh. Jungkook was silent for a moment, then took a step toward you. You instinctively took a step back.

"What you said in the car? Is that really what you want?" He stood over you, staring into your eyes. "You don't want to see me anymore?"

Your palms were sweaty. Your heart, which was already beating wildly in your chest, skipped a beat. He was here. Standing on your doorstep, asking if you really didn't want to see him. Had your words really hurt him?

"Yes," you said firmly, despite your condition. "I don't want to see you anymore." Jungkook didn't answer again, just looked at you as if you hadn't said anything and he was still waiting for your answer. You crossed your arms over your chest and said:

"You think you can disappear without warning. Not answering text messages or phone calls, knowing full well how I feel about you, and then showing up and thinking we'll continue as before?" You tried not to cry, even though the lump in your throat hurt. Jungkook laughed bitterly. He lowered his eyes for a moment, running his hand through his hair. You looked at him, trying to hold back your tears.

"Damn it... I really thought like that,"

You laughed sadly, almost mockingly.

"Then you're a complete asshole," you said, still smiling. Jungkook took half a step toward you, and you didn't back away. You're not sure if it was because you didn't want to or because you couldn't.

"I am an asshole," he agreed. His fingers touched your chin and you swallowed hard, feeling yourself tremble. His touch made you feel a wave of heat inside. He leaned a little closer, leaving a small distance between you. "I saw that clown walk you home. But apparently, he didn't get to fuck you tonight," Jungkook leaned even closer, touching your waist with his hand. "Is that because I already fucked you?"

Your eyes darted between his. You tried to find the right words, but his closeness made you forget how to think and speak.

"Get out" you whispered, closing your eyes because you couldn't bear his gaze. You felt his lips touch your cheek. He kissed you, moving his lips to your ear. You grabbed his hands, trying to push him away, but he stepped on you and in a moment you were pressed against the wall. The front door thundered, and you realize that he has closed it with his foot.

"You can't give yourself to anyone else because you only want me, right?" he whispers in your ear. His teeth bite your earlobe and you let out a trembling breath. "If to be honest, I wanted to rip this clown's arms off when he hugged you. Seeing another man touch you was unbearable for me," Jungkook moved closer to your face, "I never thought I was capable of jealousy,"

Jungkook pressed you closer, his thigh pressing against your pussy, and you felt yourself getting wet.

"Were you watching me? For how long?" you asked. Jungkook lowered his eyes to your lips, and you knew that if you didn't do something now, this morning would end like all the others. You would have sex again, and then he would just leave and come back when he wanted to. And then he would definitely see that you were powerless against him and couldn't fight him off.

"Long enough to see what made me feel this way. You even promised to eagerly await his call... Is your impatience the same when you wait for me when I’m come inside you or a little less?"

Jungkook's hand slipped under your robe and found the edge of your panties. You quickly grabbed his hand to stop him. He didn't move it. He didn't force himself. But he didn't take it away either.

Your eyes met again. Your eyes were burning — not with desire, but with indignation. With pain. With disappointment. And for the first time, he didn't see the usual submission there.

"Don't you dare," you said, referring to his words and his hands reaching for you. He still had his hand on your underwear, but it seemed that for the first time he didn't have easy access to it. "I woke up every damn morning at a quarter past four, hoping you would show up. You made me go through hell. And I want to forget you..." you whispered your last words. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you closed your eyes to calm down. Jungkook put one hand on the wall opposite your face and slipped the one you were holding into your panties, even though you tried to stop him.

When his fingers touched your clitoris, you held your breath, and his lips touched yours. He kissed you, taking complete possession of you. His palm pushed aside the fabric of your lace thong and he skillfully spread the moisture between your folds, kissing you until you were dizzy, making you moan into his mouth.

You felt his cock harden and press against your thigh. Your heart pounded in your temples, your breathing broken into ragged gasps. His fingers spread your wetness so confidently, as if he didn't just know your body — as if it had belonged to him for years.

"Don't do this," you whispered through your breath. But he kissed you with the same obsessive confidence as always. And your fingers, which were supposed to push him away... treacherously dug into his shirt. His lips moved down — along your cheeks, chin, to your neck, leaving burning marks, while his fingers had already penetrated inside you. You squeezed his hand between your legs, trying to curb the sweet pain.

"Oh God..." you moaned as he slowly inserted one finger, then another. There was no haste in his touch — only determination. His breathing became heavier. And you knew — he was on the edge too.

"You lied. You want me. I want you. So why do we have to end this?" Jungkook asked, fingering you. His movements quickened, and you felt that you wanted more than just his fingers. But his words hurt you. He doesn't understand that this is no longer about sex and pleasure. You've fallen in love, and it's serious.

"Because I'll never be to you what you've become to me," you said, barely breathing. "I don't want to fall even more in love with you."

"Don't say that to me," he said harshly, and you opened your eyes. His fingers went deep inside you. Jungkook froze for a moment, then in one motion tore off your robe. It fell to your feet, leaving you in your underwear. Jungkook just as abruptly pulled off your thong, and it got stuck on your hips.

He pulled his fingers out of you and placed them on your clitoris, and began to massage it. You squeezed his shoulders harder, still looking at him in fear. You realized that he was angry, and the painful movements on your clitoris confirmed it. You bit your lip to endure these movements. Jungkook almost touched your lips and said, stimulating you mercilessly.

"Don't tell me you love me anymore!" he said harshly. "I don't need your love! I only need your body..." His words echoed with a dull pain in your chest, and the movements of his fingers on your aroused center were more unpleasant than ever.

"Stop," you whimpered, trying to push him away. Instead of listening to you, he kissed you, greedily, deeply, so that your tongue was completely captured by his, so that your mouth was completely in his power. You put your hand on his to pull it away from your crotch, but he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. You felt his hard cock pressing against your bare pussy.

Jungkook stopped kissing you but did not move away from you. Your heavy breaths, full of passion and incomprehensible feelings, intertwined into one.

"I want you. I want you all the time, and it drives me crazy. I don't believe in this damn love because it doesn't exist," he almost growled into your lips, and each of his words echoed in you like a new painful scar. "As soon as I tell you who I am, your love will disappear. So don't say you love me," he snapped. The lump in your throat hurt again. You didn't understand anything he was saying, and what was most unpleasant was that you really loved him, but he didn't believe it. What's more, it made him angry.

"What nonsense is this?" you asked with a trembling voice. "What does that mean? Why will my love disappear if I find out who you are? Tell me, plea..." you wanted to finish, but he didn't let you. His lips on yours prevented you from doing so. He lowered your hands and found your breasts under your bra. He squeezed your breasts with the same anger, kissing you hard.

You felt him squeeze your breasts under your bra with such force that it almost made you moan, not from pleasure, but from pain. His lips moved against yours, pushing the words back into your throat. And you wanted to scream — not from physical pain, but from how he was breaking you inside again.

He picked you up by your buttocks and went to the bedroom, never stopping kissing you. You found yourself on the bed, and without saying another word, he removed your underwear, which was hanging on your hips. He took off his shirt and climbed onto the bed. He spread your legs, and you knew what he wanted to do.

"Kook... let's talk..." you begged, but he didn't hear you. His tongue pressed against your aroused center and you arched toward him, touching his silky hair with your hands. His tongue carried you to paradise, and his fingers, which cut through your delicate skin, forced you to remain in the reality you were in. Jungkook ran his tongue over your folds, making you tremble with every touch. He made a long, slow movement along your clitoris, making you moan. His tongue entered your pussy, and after a few seconds he returned to your folds.

"Fuck... you're so sweet, baby," he said in front of your pussy, which was completely open to him. He returned to licking you, and his hands found your breasts. He squeezed one of them, pressing his lips against it, sucking on your tender, swollen center.

You felt the orgasm rapidly approaching, and in a moment the knot in your lower abdomen untied and a wave of pleasure washed over you. Your clitoris twitched on Jungkook's tongue, and a cry mixed with a moan escaped your lips.

Jungkook only let you go when you stopped twitching, and your legs fell limply, opening you up completely to him.

You barely lifted your head to see Jungkook getting off the bed. His chin and lips glistened with your juices. He slowly licked his lips as he took off his jeans. His cock was erect, and it was clear from its bulge that he wanted to free himself from the tight clothing that was constricting him.

You were breathing heavily, unable to move. The pleasant sensation after orgasm was still rippling between your legs, and when you saw Jungkook completely naked, your mouth filled with saliva. You wanted to suck him off. But he didn't give you a single chance to do so.

Jungkook climbed onto the bed and crawled towards you. He grabbed your legs and raised it, placing his large, engorged cock at your entrance. You were very wet, and before entering, Jungkook smeared some of your wet with the head of his cock along your folds.

Finally, he pressed against your entrance and entered. To your surprise, it was slow, millimeter by millimeter, and you enjoyed it with almost no pain.

Jungkook took you under the knee, moving your leg away so that you were as open to him as possible. He leaned toward you when he was fully inside you and froze. You looked into his eyes and thought that these eyes were your favorite, but why did they seem so unfamiliar now?

"I love being inside you, baby," he said in a breathless voice. He moved his hips and you moaned softly.

Jungkook slowly withdrew from you almost to the very edge... and then entered you again, deeply, completely, to the last millimeter. His movements were slow, lingering, almost torturously sweet. You felt him stretching you from within, filling you completely, forcing your body to arch toward each new thrust.

His hand slid under your waist, lifting your pelvis slightly — just the way he knew you liked it. He adjusted the angle, and the next thrust made you moan louder. Deeply. Exactly. Right where it was most sensitive. His gaze never left yours — hot, hungry, a little angry.

"Damn, that's good," you said, unable to contain your delight. Jungkook smiled triumphantly without stopping his movements.

You clenched the sheet, feeling your whole body tense as another wave approached. His moans merged with yours as he entered you once again, all the way to the bottom. His fingers found your clitoris again and began to massage it as he moved inside you in a rhythm that erased your thoughts. Your hips rose to meet him, seeking more. His hips slammed against yours with a dull thud that sent shivers down your spine.

Jungkook leaned down and pressed his lips to your neck, leaving hot kisses and small marks, like marks of ownership.

He straightened up on his knees and pulled out of you, but you could still feel that he was inside you. He turned you onto your stomach, lifted your ass, and you braced yourself with your hands on the bed.

Jungkook took his time. He held you in front of him, your hips in his strong arms, admiring the curve of your back, the way your delicate buttocks trembled, raised and submissive. He stroked your buttocks with his thumbs, gently, almost caressingly. But there was strength in that tenderness — the kind that made you melt beneath him.

"You have no idea how much I want you..." he whispered hoarsely and leaned down to run his tongue along your spine — from your waist up. You shuddered at the combination of his hot breath and the slight moisture that remained on your skin. And then... he entered you again from behind — deep, sharp, forcing you to grab the blanket even tighter.

You moaned when you felt his movement — he entered you completely, and from this position the sensations were even more piercing. His hips confidently slammed into yours, and he held you by the waist, guiding, controlling, leading.

"You drive me crazy when you arch your back like that for me..." he said, quickening his pace. His voice was deep, almost animalistic. And you didn't just hear him — you felt him deep inside you. Every movement seemed perfectly precise.

His hand moved lower and found your clitoris again, while the other slid under you to pull you closer. You felt small in his arms, completely filled, and it... was bliss.

"Fuck. You're so perfect for me," he groaned. You felt that pleasant pleasure enveloping you between your legs again. Orgasm approached with every movement of his hips, and then the explosion and unearthly sensations made you moan very loudly. Jungkook felt your walls squeeze his cock and he tried to hold on. He stopped, enjoying how you squeezed him.

You were breathing quickly and deeply, thinking it was all over, but Jungkook was still hard inside you. He pulled out and you fell onto the bed, trying to catch your breath. Jungkook moved to the head of the bed and gently pulled you toward him.

"Sit on me." His eyes were burning. He lay there with his erect cock demanding attention. You sat near on him, exhausted, unable to climb on top of him.

"Kook, I'm tired... maybe me just suck you off," you reached for his cock with your hands, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him.

"I want to cum inside you. So get on top of me," he said and pulled you towards him, and you had no choice but to slowly climb on top of him with trembling legs and cheeks flushed with heat. Jungkook held your hips, helping you sit on him, and when you were fully seated, you both let out a sound of pleasure at the same time.

"Come on, baby. Now... you're in control," he said quietly, stroking your breasts and stomach. His fingers squeezed your nipples, and you began to move — slowly, feeling every moment. The control was in your hands, and you felt it — how you were regaining power over yourself... over him... at least for a moment.

His hands slid down your back, and his mouth left kisses on everything he could reach. Your movements became faster, and your body hotter. And when another wave of orgasm began to roll in, he pulled you close, squeezing your buttocks. He was deep inside you, and every inch of this union made you revel in the sensuality. His moans mingled with your breath as you quickened your pace, pressing your breasts against his chest, dissolving into him.

"Like that... yes..." Jungkook gasped, pressing his lips into your shoulder, running his fingers along your spine. He clutched you closer, frantically, as if with each thrust he wanted to keep you inside him forever.

You felt his hips pull up from below — he could no longer hold back. He began to move with you, and now you were flying — in a rhythm that was yours alone. A whisper of your name escaped his lips, and a few seconds later his whole body tensed, he froze... and you felt a wave of warmth spread through you as he came, deeply, powerfully, with a breath that burned your ear.

He hugged you tightly — very, truly — and pressed you to his chest, as if nothing else existed in the world at that moment. You were both breathing heavily, chest to chest, forehead to forehead.

For a long time, no one said anything. There was only silence — cozy, full, like after a storm.

You finally climbed off him and lay down on the bed, completely exhausted. Jungkook lay down next to you, breathing heavily. You felt his semen flowing out of you and thought about taking the anti-inflammatory pill you had forgotten to take yesterday.

You felt Jungkook move, and then in a moment he was pressed against you. His lips found yours and he kissed you again. So many times, more than ever before when you were together. You felt the pleasure that these lips kissing you now belonged to the person you loved, but there were many unresolved issues between you. And this sex just delayed the inevitable.

Jungkook pulled away, and you immediately got to the point:

"Tell me who you are. Why don't I really know anything about you except that you have one friend, Jimin?"

Jungkook raised his eyebrows when he heard your question. He moved away and then got out of bed. You sat up without covering yourself. Jungkook went over to his things and started getting dressed. You felt a wave of irritation wash over you. Your eyes watched the muscles move on his back. It seems like he wants to run away again without any explanation. You also got out of bed, wrapping yourself in a blanket.

When Jungkook wanted to put on his shirt, you pushed him and turned he to you.

"Tell me who the hell you are! And why should I fall out of love with you when I find out who you are!" You could no longer contain your anger. He still looked at you silently. Your anger excited him, but he didn't want to tell you who he was. That was the reason why he had disappeared for two months.

Jungkook was silent. His eyes slid over your face, as if trying to memorize every feature before doing something... irreversible. He stood in front of you — half-dressed, hot with passion, but there was something cold in his eyes. Determined. Painful.

"If you find out," he finally spoke, quietly but firmly, "you will fear me."

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. Your throat was dry, but you forced yourself to look straight ahead and speak clearly:

"Just say it already," you didn't shout, but your voice was filled with rage born of pain.

He came close to you. You raised your head so as not to take your eyes off his dark eyes.

"I'll tell you, and then we definitely won't be able to see each other. So choose..."

You swallowed hard, exhausted by everything in the world. It was important for you to know what kind of man was standing in front of you. Because if he was really dangerous to you, you had to end it.

"Jungkook. I'm not a child. I have the right to know. And I have the right to decide for myself. Tell me."

He was silent. You could see him struggling with himself, whether to tell you or not. His lips parted and he said:

"I... I'm a mercenary..."

The silence after his confession seemed louder to you than any scream. You felt your stomach tighten.

"Mercenary?" you asked, almost not believing what you had heard. Your voice broke into a whisper. Jungkook just nodded. His jaw was tense, as if he were waiting for a blow. Waiting for you to scream, run away, curse him.

"I worked for those who paid the most. Mostly in security. But also... cleanups, eliminations. Sometimes just passing on information. I'm no hero, baby. And I'm certainly not someone to love. I'm not the kind of guy for a serious relationship," he touched your cheek with his fingers and stroked it gently.

You slowly moved away from him and sat down on the edge of the bed. Your heart was beating hard, each beat echoing in your ears. Everything you knew about him began to crack at the seams. Or rather, it finally fell into place.

"Is that why you disappeared?" you asked quietly.

"Some people wanted to kill me. Because I refused to follow orders. And then... when things calmed down a bit... I couldn't come back for a long time. Because I knew that if I saw you again, I wouldn't be able to leave. And I would drag you into something that couldn't be resolved without bloodshed."

He came closer. He stood right in front of you, crouching down to be at eye level with you. His palms touched your knees.

"Are you a murderer?" you asked, feeling your body tremble.

"Yes," he said firmly. "I am a murderer."

There was a silence that weighed heavily on both of you. You couldn't believe it. Of all the possible secrets — you were ready for betrayal, a double life, even marriage... But not this.

"And you don't regret it?" you asked in a trembling voice. He sighed.

"I regret that you had to find out about it. But I did what I had to do."

"Is the police looking for you?" you asked again.

"No. Because some people in the police... are on my side."

You closed your eyes. Every word was like a nail. You were silent for a long time. Your breathing finally evened out. Now you saw him differently. Not just as a lover. Not just as a missing man. But as someone... from a completely different world. Cruel. Dangerous. And now the scratches you had treated him for made sense. His late arrivals made sense. His disappearance made sense.

"I couldn't come to you at other times and I can't be with you during the day because you might be in danger. I knew it would be better not to show up at all, but I couldn't help myself. I am constantly drawn to you. But you don't deserve someone like me. At the same time, I can't imagine you with another man. It makes me so angry." Jungkook got up and you followed him with your eyes. He walked away from you and started putting on his shirt. You weighed all your feelings and the facts before you.

"Jungkook," you called him. He turned back to you and saw the verdict in your eyes. It hurt him, but he was ready for it. "I really fell in love with you..."

"Don't say that..." Jungkook interrupted you. It hurt him to hear you say that, and he couldn't accept it because there was no place for love in his life. You fell silent and then started again.

"I'm in love with you, but who you are... I thought you disappeared because you didn't want to see me. But the fact that you kill people is a completely different matter," your voice trembled and your eyes filled with tears. "Do you really have to do this? If you have a chance to leave it..." you said, but Jungkook interrupted you.

"No..." he said sharply. You fell silent. He exhaled heavily. "No, baby. I can't get out of it, I've been in it for too long..."

You bit your lip to keep from crying. Losing Jungkook for the second time that day was the most painful thing you had ever felt. Even that other time didn't hurt this much. Back then, there was hope, small and meager, but it was there that he could be brought back. But now... now you know that he is involved in crime. And the fact that he can take someone's life just like that sends a chill down your spine. Your eyes fill with tears. You look at his face — so handsome, so familiar, with the cheekbones you used to kiss, his lips — and you no longer see the gentle, ordinary, daring boy you fell in love with. You realize that now the possibility of being with him has become almost impossible.

You looked at him. There was so much in his eyes: fatigue, pain, struggle, despair... and something else — something so deep that it took your breath away. But alongside this — a shadow. The shadow of who he had become.

"I just..." You swallow your tears, trying to breathe evenly. "I didn't expect this. I was ready for anything. Even if you were married... or had children... or dealt in stolen goods... But that you kill people — I couldn't have imagined that even in my worst nightmare."

Jungkook didn't take his eyes off you. But he didn't come closer. He didn't touch you.

"It's really scary," you said quietly, admitting it. "I look at you, and my heart still aches... with love. But it's really scary... Because I don't know what you're capable of. And who else you might kill..."

He clenched his fists, as if holding back the urge to scream. His face was contorted with pain.

"I would never hurt you," he said softly.

"What about the people around me? Can you promise that? That your world... will never touch mine?"

He didn't answer.

"See?" you whispered. "So we really weren't meant to be together... I'm sorry, I don't know who I need to be to accept that..." Tears rolled down your cheeks. You didn't even wipe them away. They dripped onto the blanket, onto your palms, leaving warm, heavy marks.

Jungkook finally slowly approaches you. He takes a few steps closer, but doesn't touch you.

"You don't have to accept this," he said hoarsely. "I didn't want you to find out. But I... I couldn't help coming. I really missed you. Like an idiot. I shouldn't have come..."

"But you did come," you say quietly with a hysterical, tired smile, "and you would have run away again if I hadn't asked. And that's what hurts the most — that you probably never planned to tell me the truth."

Jungkook bowed his head in acknowledgment. Something flashed in his eyes — shame? Guilt?

"If I stay... will it destroy you?" he asked, hope in his voice. But when he saw the look on your face, he understood the answer.

You took a step back. Not out of fear. But because you couldn't bear his gaze. He was silent. His breathing was uneven, his chest rising heavily. He looked at you, knowing that this was probably the last time — long, as if trying to engrave the smallest details of your face in his memory.

He didn't want to come back to you when he left. But you managed to tie him to you, and it destroyed him. Even though he swore he would never have a girl to friend with benefits. But you're like a damn drug. He wants you constantly, day after day. And when he came back today for the first time in a long time, he had sex with you like a madman. He forgot who he was, what world he lived in. All he wanted was you. You stood in front of him, wrapped in a blanket, so small in front of his shadow. But you already not been his.

Jungkook stood there, silent. He didn't try to convince you. He just stared. Like a doomed man. You stood in front of him, wrapped in a blanket, so small in front of his shadow.

"I'm asking you... Go. Really go. And don't come back... and don't even think about touching anyone around me... If I find out that anyone has disappeared, is scared, is being followed... I'll go to the police. Not the ones who cover for you. The international ones. I'll do everything to stop you. Do you understand?"

Jungkook could barely control himself. His jaw ached from clenching it so tightly.

"Yes, baby. I understand you," he said, smiling through the pain in his chest. "I'll go. And you'll never see me again."

There were tears in your eyes, and you couldn't see properly because of them. His image blurred as he turned and walked away. Without looking back. Without touching you goodbye. He just disappeared. Like a storm that left only destruction and emptiness behind.

Everything was like a fog. You weren't living, you were just existing. You didn't talk to anyone. You texted your friends that you were busy at work, and you lied to your parents in short phone conversations. You ate almost nothing. You didn't leave the house except to go to work.

Donmin, your colleague, was the first to notice. He brought you coffee, tried to talk to you, joked, invited you to lunch. But you... it was as if you didn't exist in the same world as everyone else.

The nights were the worst. You couldn't sleep. You constantly listened to the sounds outside the window, to the silence in the house. You felt like he was watching you. That he was somewhere nearby. And the scariest thing was that you were almost certain of it.

And then you felt sick. You threw up when you were getting ready for work. The first time, you thought you had food poisoning. It wasn't surprising, since you had eaten something spoiled the night before. But when it happened again the next morning... you looked at the calendar.

It showed that you were four days late. With everything that was going on, you hadn't noticed that your period hadn't started.

You were instantly overcome with panic. You hadn't had sex with anyone except Jungkook, and you remembered that you hadn't taken your birth control that day. You felt so bad that you completely forgot to take it.

You rushed to get dressed, grabbed your wallet, and ran to the nearest 24-hour pharmacy because it was early in the morning.

You bought not one but three tests to make sure that if one lied, the other two would show the truth. With trembling hands, you opened the box and followed the instructions. You waited in the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest like crazy.

You sat on the edge of the bathtub. Your gaze was glued to the little window on the test. The first line was the control line. And almost immediately... the second line appeared. You couldn't believe your eyes. Two lines.

You grabbed the other two tests, and although they hadn't fully developed yet, both showed two lines.

You clutched your head in your hands and the world around you collapsed. Thousands of thoughts raced through your mind, each one worse than the last. The phone lying on the nightstand by the sink vibrated. A notification came in, but you didn't pay any attention to it. The time on the phone showed 4:15. And you almost fainted when you realized what you had just found out. You were pregnant. Pregnant by Jungkook.

AUTHOR NOTE:

Hello to my dear ARMY 💜 It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I haven’t written anything new for you in a long time.

So, I want to tell you that I’m feeling better, but life is still kinda shitty, to be honest 😒 The only light for me right now is BTS and you, my dearest ones 🥺💗 Receiving your words of support is incredibly touching and heartwarming 😭🙏🏻

Please forgive me for constantly talking about my condition (I really think I should just shut my mouth 😀), but it’s directly connected to why I so rarely post anything.

I have projects ongoing and I plan to continue them. When exactly? I’m planning to do it in the coming weeks, but besides going to work — which drives me into breakdowns — and going to therapy, I’ve also started studying, which will take some of my time too 🥲😔

But I promise I’m not going anywhere and I’ll keep writing “One Night…” and “No Mercy” (one sweet anon almost hung me upside down demanding a continuation 😅 I PROMISE I’ll write the next part very soon 🙌🏻)

And this story again is about toxic relationships. God, I don’t know why but I’ve been drawn to writing this kind of thing lately!

Should I write some fluff without explicit scenes? (I don’t even know if I can write like that, but maybe I should try 🤭)

I really hope everyone will enjoy it 🙏🏻 If this came off as harsh to you, please forgive me — this is just how I saw the story 🙏🏻 Please don’t write anything too mean, I’m very sensitive right now 🥺

I also want to sincerely apologize to everyone whom I haven’t replied to in DMs or question boxes yet 🥺 My dearest ones, I’ve really closed myself off a lot and I’m so sorry that you worry about me, but I just can’t give a proper response 🥺💗

Please bear with me if you’re willing to — I will reply to every message. (To be honest, the only thing I’m able to do is write a little. That’s the only thing I still have the will to do in this life.

I’ll share a secret with you — it’s unbearable for me to be around people, sometimes even my loved ones. I think I’ve really lost it 😭🤨 (I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this here, but I want to be honest with you.)

So if someone likes my new story, I’ll be happy with any interaction. You know that despite my weird state, I can’t stop loving you all 🥹😭💜

I really love you so much and I miss the way you interact with me 🥹 Don’t focus too much on my state — better tell me if this story was worthy of your attention, if you’ve read this far 😊🥹

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missadangel · 5 months ago

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MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)

Summary: You work as a housekeeper in a rich family's mansion and often have to deal with their spoiled daughter. One day, she asks you to pretend to be her on a blind date with a guy her dad picked out for her. Your mission is to make him not like you so he won't want to marry her. But here's the twist: will Harry end up hating you, or could he actually fall for you? That's the real question. Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time. authors note: I am not sure about his name. If there's any update, I will edit. English is not my native, so please be nice; this is my third fanfiction. Thank you for the reblogs, comments, and likes. Love you all!

ao3 link

Chapter 1: Blind Date

Chapter 2: Cinderella

Chapter 3: Happily Never After

Chapter 4: No More Secrets

Chapter 5: Falling Hard

Chapter 6: Truth or Dare

Chapter 7: Apologize

Chapter 8: Trick or Threat

Chapter 9: Hurt

Chapter 10: Here Without You

Chapter 11: Favorite Crime

Chapter 12: You're the Reason

Chapter 13: How Long Will I Love You (final chapter)

my masterlist

series playlist

#fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gifs #pedro pascal fanfiction #materialists #harry castillo #harry castillo fanfiction #randy castillo #the materialists #harry castillo x you #harry castillo x reader #Spotify

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thewritingfairy · 4 months ago

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જ⁀➴Nobody's child

Inspired by @acid-ixx (undoing fate) (again & again), @rizzanon (undoing fate), @nikovraskol (crack baby)

main m.list bad ending m.list

↪ READER NOTES

-> disabled reader, reader's non-binary but hasn't come out yet, due to this pronouns she/they will be used.

↪ TRIGGER WARNINGS

-> emotional + physical + medical neglect, kidnapping, explosive anger, misgendering, grieve, mentions of murder, there will be individual trigger warnings on each chapter, more might be added

↪ SUMMARY

Sometimes pain can be an ephipany and bring perspective in someone's life.

In your case it finally made you stop chasing your family's love. It changed you, yes. But it did so for the better.

Just too bad that you needed to change before your 'father' and 'siblings' noticed what was wrong, and for that wrong to finally teach them you were always deserving of love and now you'll make your own story line.

↪ CHAPTERS

00. A plan to live

01. A job to pay the bills

02. A job interview gone right

03. To the ones that love you fully

04. Distraction is the best medication

05. Tim doesn't understand you

06. Your first day at work

07. An explosion of emotions

08. A state of dreams

09. Oh no!

10. Duke is done

11. Something is wrong

12. Confrontation gone wrong!

13. Damian attempts self-reflection

14. Chaos and Bruce's guilt

15. The beginning of the end

16. Anger is powerful

17. A deck of cards

18. For justice has many faces

19. For this end will not be in their favour

↪ SIDE STORIES

Jason's crime

Duke and (Name)

↪ DRABBLES, ONESHOTS

au: Poetic justice

Tim's debt

pride month special; gender dysphoria

Bruce's biggest mistake

A long day

Slade Wilson is petty

↪ ASKS

🪷anon 1 2 3 4 5

😶‍🌫️ anon 1 2 3

Realization and forgiveness

Tim cares (😶‍🌫️ anon)

Massive ick

Reader working with the villains

heirlooms

Will your friends be yandere?

Romance?

Counting days (😶‍🌫️ anon)

Tim 1 2

Incorrect quotes

They'll get worse

The worst yandere

Alfred's title

Abusive

Close parental figure

Jason's confrontation

CANON Bruce and NOBODY'S CHILD Bruce

↪ TAGLIST

@prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

TAGLIST CLOSED

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #neglected reader #batfam x reader #batfam x neglected reader #☾ thewritingfairy #masterpost

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honeyscara · 2 months ago

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❝ TUTOR ❞ — Yeon Si eun

-weak hero full length fic

Synopsis: You’re forced into tutoring with Yeon Sieun—a boy your mother praises like a god and you instinctively can’t stand at first. What begins as simple tutoring sessions turns into something else and you find yourself with sieun up against dangerous people & situations. But it's not all bad as you end up finding unexpected friendships and love.

Content: strangers(?) to lovers, si eun × female! reader, follows s2 storyline so spoilers!!, shit goes from 0 to 100 real quick

Tw/cw: angst, suggestive, mentions of physical violence and SA, trauma, strong language, blood.

Masterlist ּ ֶָ֢.

Chapter 1 Chapter 10

Chapter 2 Chapter 11

Chapter 3 Chapter 12

Chapter 4 Chapter 14

Chapter 5 Chapter 15

Chapter 6 Chapter 16

Chapter 7 Chapter 17

Chapter 8 Chapter 18

Chapter 9 Finale

A/n's note: Will update the chapters soon<3 let me know if anyone wants to be added to the taglist

Whc masterlist

#honeyscara masterlist #honeyscara works #weak hero class #weak hero #sieun weak hero class #sieun x reader #yeon sieun #yeon sieun x reader #whc2 x reader #whc x reader #whc2 #whc2 spoilers #whc sieun #whc angst #weak hero class season 2 #weak hero class 2

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106alibi · 9 months ago

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good graces ; lee jeno

pairing: boxer!jeno x magazine-editor!reader

synopsis: y/n knows she's petty. so when she found out her (secret) celebrity boyfriend of a year had been cheating on her, through a news article to make things worse, she decided to cook up an action plan to get back at him, and what better way to take revenge than to get together with his all-time favourite athlete?

or, in which y/n involves an unsuspecting lee jeno into her little revenge scheme on her now ex-boyfriend.

ib: good graces, sabrina carpenter

featuring: haewon of nmixx, kazuha of lesserafim, ningning of aespa, 00z of nct dream, (side chars.) natty of kiss of life, jake of enhypen

genre: humour, fluff, angst (maybe)

disclaimers: fem pronouns for y/n, will give disclaimers for individual chapters if I see fit!, mentions of cheating, profanities, kms/kys jokes, inappropriate themes and jokes

notes: need to preface and say I love jake i love jake i love jake i love natty i love natty i love natty

status: ongoing (061124)

updates: every wednesday

taglist: open~ drop a reply or ask to be added!

a/n: letting this marinate before i start it from mid to end november! i have high hopes for this one and i hope you give jeno lots of love because there is a serious jeno smau drought on this app 💔💔 if you want me to tag you when the profiles/prologue drops just send a reply or an ask too! love you all 💜💜

profiles 24/7 on the bowl | protected by jeno squad

chapters

chapter 00. prologue

chapter 01. LIKE P IN THE V??

chapter 02. umm uhh O.K!

chapter 03. clout chaser

chapter 04. rookie mistake

chapter 05. I think she's flirting (written)

chapter 06. a girl can't smile in 2024 without flirting?

chapter 07. Awkward!

chapter 08. soft launch

chapter 09. bad luck (written)

chapter 10. atrociously negative rizz

chapter 11. nonchalant kween

chapter 12. taemin sunbaenim

chapter 13. sweet talk

chapter 14. cucumber shreds

chapter 15. pretty

chapter 16. just a friend

chapter 17. use me

chapter 18. guilty?

chapter 19. not before I do

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inspectorlyfra · 13 days ago

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After almost 7 months, 34 hours, 42 work sessions; many hand cramps, wrist pops and tension headaches; several extended breaks for unrelated illness and injury; and an amount of hubris that would make Erin shudder, it's finally done! I am proud to present the full text transcript of Aurora.

All transcription work was done by me. Proofreading and editing done by the lovely @asterism343 ; she also added the rune translations. Be sure to give her a hand too, I couldn't have done this without her! Thanks as well to Auroracord and ATP* for listening to me ramble about it while I worked, encouraging me to be productive, and (more importantly) helping me decide when to let myself rest. And thanks, of course, to @comicaurora for the incredible comic!

Working on this transcript was a very intense labor of love, and I enjoyed every second of it. It got me to notice a lot of things I wouldn't have otherwise, even after multiple casual rereads. I changed my mind on things a couple times and tried to make this both as streamlined and as useful as possible. Let me know if you have suggestions for any further improvements! On that note: It's on dark mode for the sake of my migraines, but if anyone wants a light mode, I can make one? It also might not load very well on mobile, she's BIG. Extra disclaimer that Google Docs only shows your name viewing a document if you have edit permissions - so anyone looking through will be anonymous!

I will be updating this with each new page to the best of my ability. So, not immediately when the page drops at 3-4am my time. I need sleep. But it should be up by the end of that day - or, if I'm busy or sick, the week's worth will go up every Friday!

*The discord server we made for this project! If you'd like an invite to stay updated and/or give suggestions, send me an ask (not anonymous) and I'll respond privately with an invite link. Please keep suggestions in the server or in my asks, not comments/reblogs/DMs.

Statistics under the cut! - Not factoring in Aster's work

project started: 12-27-2024 work sessions transcribing: 23 work time, transcribing, up to 2.3.42: 27 hours 15 minutes linebreak sessions: 19 time for linebreaks, my half: 6hrs 40min pages on the doc: 240 comic pages completed: 890 (not including pages without dialogue/sfx/runes) words: 76,170 average rate: 33.66 pages per hour, each chapter taking 63 minutes

Chapter breakdown, as precisely as I could make it:

0.0.X, 1.1.X, 1.2.X: 1hr 15min 1.3.X, 1.4.X: 1hr 30min 1.5.X: 1hr 1.6.X: 1hr 40min 1.7.X: 1hr 35min 1.8.X: 1hr 5min 1.9.X: 1hr 5min 1.10.X: 1hr 15min 1.11.X: 1hr 15min 1.12.X: 1hr 20min 1.13.X: 1hr 1.14.X: 50min 1.15.X: 55min 1.16.X: 50min 1.17.X: 50min 1.18.X: 25min 1.19.X: 1hr 1.20.X: 50min 1.21.X: 1hr 15min 1.22.X, 2.0.X: 1hr 40min 2.1.X: 2hr 2.2.X: 1hr 30min 2.3.X, 2.4.<15: 1hr 15min

number of lines / chapters appeared in = lines per chapter erin: 942 / 22 = 43 falst: 692 / 18 = 38 jolon: 76 / 2 = 38 dainix: 487 / 14 = 35 alinua: 816 / 25 = 33 kendal: 799 / 25 = 32 vash: 95 / 3 = 32 tarren: 61 / 2 = 31 tahraim: 105 / 4 = 26 ilia: 26 / 1 = 26 shrike: 95 / 4 = 24 tynan: 110 / 5 = 22 the collector: 99 / 4 = 25 tess: 334 / 17 = 20 caliban: 61 / 3 = 20 tam: 54 / 3 = 18 the void dragon: 165 / 10 = 17 argist: 17 / 1 = 17 gleicann: 51 / 3 = 17 zuurith: 61 / 5 = 12 trusk: 23 / 2 = 12 theia: 67 / 7 = 10 arenamaster: 38 / 4 = 10 primordial life: 21 / 8 = 3

#comic aurora #aurora comic #aurora webcomic #IT'S DONE. IT'S DONE YALL #the aurora transcription saga #im like shaking from adrenaline

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illusory-nomad · 1 month ago

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OUT OF FRAME!!

A Jinu fic

"Let's surpass someone's dreams and make it the proof of our existence"

Synopsis : A major dating scandal cost Y/N her spot in the rising girl group Huntr/x, and unfortunately ended her idol career. Her ex-group, managed by her own brother, continues to climb to greater heights without her, fueling her jealousy and competitive spirit. Determined to outshine them, Y/N takes on a new role as manager, scouts five boys from across South Korea's entertainment industry, and forms the Saja Boys with a single goal: surpass her old group and topple her brother's success.

Pairings : human idol! jinu x manager! reader

Tags : Second chances, slow-burn (?), found family, slice of life, exes to lovers (in a good way I promise ;-;), crack, angst (?)

Warnings : references to some parts of Kpop Demon Hunters (some are more visible than the rest), swearing, death threat jokes, abuse (?), mistreatment, reader's pronouns are she/her, reader is Bobby's sister (is that a warning??), fluff, slow burn (?), crack

Status : ongoing

Author's Note : *starts a new fic despite having two ongoing fics* Hey, baby gorilla :) Kpop Demon Hunters was sooooo good, and this plot has been rotting in my drafts after my high school scrapped it off for a play, and I think this is a good opportunity to put it to use! As per my last two fics, I will always put a tw before every chapter, so please read that first, and if I missed any warnings, please let me know (though the story is slice of life, so idrt there will be a lot of tws). I'll also be sure to update the tags and everything as the story progresses, and I apologize in advance for any mistakes

00 : Introduction

01 : Only Love Can Hurt Like This

02 : A Declaration of War

03 : You WILL Notice Me, Senpai

04 : He's Better at Walking in Heels Than I Am

05 : Who Taught the Baby How to Rap Battle?

06 : Wow, Your Abs Can Really Dance

07 : Four Idiots and A Missing Main Vocal

08 : The Ghost of Relationship Past

09 :

10 :

11 :

12 :

13 :

14 :

15 :

16 :

17 :

18 :

19 :

20 :

Taglist 1 (closed) : @brithedemonspawn @jammycheese @xxsadlovexx @saltedcoffeescotch @hydeonysus @katzline @blackstar-gazer @ateezswonderland @charlie-xo @azzberry @rai-xxx @kyxmlii @yeast-ken23 @snoweclipsese @nyanyanihao @kyuki07 @reiofsuns2001 @ratchetprime211 @arcaneh0 @berryhobi @amery-benson-cvii @scara-simp69 @thesimppotato11 @whimsiecat @elegancefr @doodle-with-rhy @mysteris-things @animegamerfox @faerie-soirxx @kazeniya @rirk-ke @phantom-101 @snowy-violet @shqyou @needsleep3000 @tenaciouskittenpuff @skzlover143 @cherrybl1ss @crescent-z @ellie-x0xo @kisaane-not @denkithunder @artistadistrada2002 @silver--47 @sandyisheree @rubixishere @theoneandonlysaki @minthoneynbasil @d4y-dr3am3r @inejsknifes

Taglist 2 (open) : CHECK HERE!!

(Bold : can't tag ;-;)

#kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpdh #kpdh x reader #kpdh x you #kpdh saja boys #saja boys #saja boys x reader #saja boys x you #jinu kpdh #jinu x reader #jinu x you #abby saja #baby saja #romance saja #mystery saja

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godmadeaterribleerror · 7 months ago

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Babylon The Great Series Masterlist

Read on A03! - Timeline for the Homies

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Rating/Warnings: 18+ for canon-typical violence, swearing, severe mental health issues, self-harm and suicidal ideation, mentions of rape/non-con, and sexual content.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, eventual happy ending.

Series Summary

There's something wrong with you that's not wrong with other people. You're a hunter, and a damn good one, but you might be a monster.

There might be something in you that needs to be put down. Something broken that can't be fixed.

It's why you've had one rule your whole life. The only thing your father has ever made clear is that, no matter what, you need to stay away from John Winchester. He can't even know you exist, or he'll kill you and never blink.

And when your paths cross a hunt, you should've run, but you didn't. You couldn't. Because you looked at Dean Winchester, and something changed inside of you. Something called you to him, and you can't figure out what it was, but you know it's strong. And you know that, whatever Dean's doing to you, you don't really care to fight it. Things are broken in you, just as much is broken in him, and you fit perfectly together in a way you'll never be able to describe.

But it's more complicated than that, though. The world pulls you and Dean apart again and again.

And you find your way back, again and again.

Author's Note

This story is non-canon compliant rewrite, but primarily plot wise. Think of it as we're cooking with all the same ingredients (i.e lore, characters, setting, and backstory) but with one change (you) that gets us to a drastically different ending.

What the means is that there will be a lot of similar plot points to Supernatural, but the further we go through the story the more it will diverge. I've also take some creative labor with the reader, adding lore that's defiantly not a part of canon, but crucial to this story.

If you have any questions about this, feel free to ask! If not, I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - In My Brain and In My Blood Chapter 2 - Under My Skin Chapter 3 - I Get A Little Dizzy Chapter 4 - You Bleed Like Me Chapter 5 - If You Let Me Chapter 6 - All The Noise Chapter 7 - Something I Can See Chapter 8 - Keep Us Far Apart Chapter 9 - Does The Feeling Haunt You Chapter 10 - Look and See Chapter 11 - You Might Drown Chapter 12 - Watch You Work The Room Chapter 13 - You'll Have to Believe It Chapter 14 - Water Is Forever Chapter 15 - Before It Falls Apart Chapter 16 - Try to Catch It Chapter 17 - You Come Back Chapter 18 - You Can Start to Make It Better Chapter 19 - That's Nothing New Chapter 20 - Wait for Me Chapter 21 - If You Want To Survive Chapter 22 - I'd Go Black And Blue Chapter 23 - You've Been Waiting to Break Chapter 24 - Just Hold On Chapter 25 - And It Was Written Chapter 26 - Worth the Fight Chapter 27 - When You Go Chapter 28 - All of This is Temporary Chapter 29 - I'll Be Lonely Chapter 30 - Hold on Tight Chapter 31 - It All Comes Around Chapter 32 - All Out Of Breath (8/7)

Pslams (In-Series Bonus Chapters)

Can You Hear Me - You sit on the roof of your car. Takes place a month after Chapter 15. I'll Keep On Waiting - Dean watches you, and Jo shares some thoughts. Takes place after Chapter 19. So Go On - Sam Chapter! Takes place after Chapter 20. Spinning Around - You, Dean, and allegedly Sam go to the movies. Takes place between Chapter 19 and Chapter 20. Just Pretend - You and Dean have some dreams. Takes place almost any time after Chapter 20. On My Way - Dean looks at some fruits. Takes place around Chapter 23. Stay This Simple - You and Jo have a girls night. Takes place around Chapter 19. Just Too Soft - Request! You get your period. Takes place a bit before Chapter 27.

Extras From Me

Listen to the Playlist! Memes! More Memes! Even more memes! Help I can't stop making memes.

Stuff By You Guys!!! (Art, Memes, and Anything more)

Meme Art 1, and 2, by @dammbi Dean Art by @dammbi Memes 1, and 2, by @dammbi Soul Art by @youdontknowe Princess Art by @youdontknowe Language Art by @imnotmentallyst4ble Princess Moodboard by @deans-yn Playlist by @imnotmentallyst4ble Series Moodboard by @dammbi Journal Spread by @imnotmentallyst4ble Memes by @brtodd Princess and Dean Art by @youdontknowe Princess Marilyn Monroe Art by @youdontknowe Princess Art by @youdontknowe Knife and Blade Art by @youdontknowe Text Memes by @let-it-sn0o0ow Memes, and bonus meme, by @let-it-sn0o0ow Incorrect Quotes by @dammbi The Blade Prop by @imnotmentallyst4ble Chapter 29: Dean and Sam drabble by @thebitchandjerkwinchesters Dean's Camera Roll by @thebitchandjerkwinchesters Princess's Camera Roll by @thebitchandjerkwinchesters Dean's Letters by @thebitchandjerkwinchesters Memes 1, and 2 by @thebitchandjerkwinchesters Princess Art by @imnotmentallyst4ble Dean Art by @thebitchandjerkwinchesters

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meowabunga · 20 days ago

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Super! - 1

Superman!Clark Kent x Reader

Summary: Late nights and looming deadlines are part of the job when you’re a journalist at the Daily Planet. But getting mugged on your way home wasn’t in the assignment list. When Metropolis’s favorite hero swoops in and saves you, what starts as a scraped knees and shared soup slowly becomes something deeper when you find yourself caught up with two versions of the same man.

authors note: I just saw the superman movie and were so back

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You always told yourself you’d stop working late.

But here you were, 12:37AM, bag clutched tightly against your side, heels clicking against the pavement. The Daily Planets towering glow fading behind you as you turned down the familiar side street shortcut.

The street grow darker the more turns you took. The usually bustling streets now quiet as the pale moons cast conveniently stopped at the narrow sidewalks between buildings.

It happened fast. A sharp voice behind you, “Purse, Now.” And cold metal pressed against your back.

You turned, breath catching in your throat. A tall man in a black hoodie and jeans. Mask covering the bottom half of his face.

You didnt think. You just ran.

Heels clicked against the ground before catching on a crack in the pavement. Shit!

The concrete dug into your knees. Skin peeled off and blood quickly soaking the open wounds. The mugger caught you quickly, steel toed boot meeting your side forcefully. “The purse, NOW!”

You blinked back tears, and heard a whoosh. As you opened your eyes he was gone. A loud band came from the alleyway a few feet away from you and you could vaguely make out papers fluttering to the ground around the dumpster at the end as the lid slammed shut.

A sigh escaped your lips.

The wind came back, this time next to you.

“You’re safe now ma’am. Are you alright?” A hand expended out next to you. Superman.

You blinked up at him, too stunned to move. Or speak. Or think.

Minutes later, you sat on a bench near the corner of 8th and Morris St. The streetlights flickered. Bits of concrete were still stuck in your bloodied knees. And superman, the actual superman, was crouched in-front of you, brushing it away with delicate fingers that somehow felt too soft for someone that could punch through meteors.

You hated crying in-front of anyone, let along a living legend. So you tilted your head back and blinked furiously. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and you were trying to control your breathing so you wouldn’t have an anxiety attack. You cracked your knuckles, once, twice, trying to distract yourself.

“Im okay,” you managed to choke out, voice embarrassingly wobbly.

He gave you a look. Not quite buying it.

“I can get home myself, really. I just..”

“Nope.” He said, gently but firmly. “Hang on”

You barely had time to object before his arms were scooping you up, lifting you effortlessly against his chest. Warm and solid. Safe.

You buried your face in his shoulder and hoped your tears would stain his cape too much.

—

You weren’t entirely sure how he knew which building was yours. You pointed halfway through the flight, and he murmured, “got it.”

He didn’t just drop you at the door. He walked up six flights of stairs, because your elevator was broken, and stopped outside your apartment, waiting as you fumbled for your keys.

“I can’t thank you enough,” you mumbled as you nudged the door open.

He still hadn’t left.

The hallway somehow felt warmer with him inside.

“I, um…” you rubbed your arms, looking everywhere around the hallway but at him. “Are you… hungry? I don’t know if aliens eat human food..” You cut yourself off “I mean, sorry, that sounded..”

Superman laughed. “No offense taken. And yeah, I do. Not everything, but I can try.”

“Ah, okay. I have chicken and rice soup. Its my dad’s recipe, your more than welcome to stay. It’s good, I promise.” You stepped inside holding the door open for him.

The two of you shuffled inside and moments later you had scooped leftovers into a pot and began stirring over the heat of your stove. Superman sat politely at the end of your couch, looking wildly out of place and yet perfectly comfortable.

A few minutes later, you were both cradling mismatched bowls, the scent of warm oily broth and herbs filling the small space.

He took a bite. Paused, and smiled softly. “This is amazing”

“See?” You said, shoulders held a little higher, “my dad knows his stuff, I told you.”

You didn’t realize how much your were smiling until your cheeks began to ache. The tension in the room was slowly easing.

“So…” you rolled the spoon between your fingers. “I know this is totally unprofessional timing, but… how do you feel about interviews?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Not right now! Obviously, but someday. I work at the Daily Planet. My friend… well, coworker, Clark always gets interviews. I swear he has some telepathic link or something. He’s always on scene, Gets the best photos too.”

You rolled your eyes and switched the bowl between hands with a laugh. “I swear he’s trying to one up me.”

Superman leaned back slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Maybe,” he said slowly, “he’s trying to impress you.”

You blinked. Spoon paused halfway to your lips. “What?”

He smirked. “Ill tell clark to let his friend…”

“(Y/N).”

“Right. I’ll tell clark to let his friend (Y/N) get more interviews. Just don’t tell Lois.”

You let out a real laugh this time, “Deal.”

#superman #clark kent #superman x reader #clark kent x reader #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you #superman fic #superman x you #superman 2025 #superman movie #dc x reader #clark kent fluff #superman fluff #david corenswet x reader #david corenswet #clark x reader #clark kent x female reader

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r1kification · 7 months ago

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– LOOK AT ME !! ౨ৎ 엔하이펜 니키

❀ ᭢᜴꤬ SYNOPSIS.ᐟ after a rough breakup, you post your thirstiest photos on your twitter as a rebounding joke, only for those photos to catch the eye of the school’s star soccer player, nishimura riki, who, after harboring a crush on you for 2 years, decides to shoot his shot, but will you open up your heart to him?

OR: in which nishimura riki tries to win your heart.

❤︎ᬼ GENRE: college romance , crack , fluff , he fell first she fell harder he fell hardest trope

͏⏝ི ✿ WARNINGS: there will kys/kms jokes , reader is kinda mean to riki in the beginning but shes heartbroken soo , riki persistent king, downbad!riki , more will be added if needed, timestamps are all over the place do not pay attention to them 😭

۶♡ৎ FEATURING: all of enhypen, haechan from nct, giselle as reader fc, my entire friend group bc i love them all, aespa, manon from katseye, wonyoung from ive, and hyunjin from stray kids

𐑺 𖹭᪲ ੭ STATUS: ON HOLD

𝜗❀᧓ ۟ 𝅄 START: 12/30/24 5:17pm PST | END: TBC

♪ ♥︎⁎̯͡ ʔ ELI NOTES: 1st smau series featuring my man nishimura riki we cheered! this thing will prolly officially start in january, i'll update the status of the series as we go ;)

ெ♡ ༚ TAGLIST is CLOSED!

DISCLAIMER: SPAM LIKING IS AN AUTOMATIC BLOCK

PROFILES sanrio icons . fortnite grinders . y/n kidney donators .

CHAPTERS - titles subject to change

001 . word kween

002 . thats lowkey gay

2.5 . zoo wee mama

003 . blackpink reference?

004 . flower by jisoo

005 . FEMINIST PRIDE

006 . gay mamas

007 . manifestation successful

008 . stay nonchalant

009 . im not gwenchana

010 . how to rizz 101

011 . yikes!

012 . high hopes

013 . lowkey awks

014 . FIRST KISS RAHH

015 . ew a man..

more tba

taglist (51/50): @dollymii @dynnirahhh @tkooooop @vixialuvs @catecita @enhypenlovre @xwonz @iheartshopping @amourenha @pkjay @tasnemluvs @starssfall @crimson-reaper576 @sol3chu @ch0c0catss @kmusicreblogs @siekksjs @i03jae @jnysaln @3nhyp3n-04 @mydearyeseo @wonuziex @honestlyatomicpanda @starfallia @luvjichang @abbyeey @starsenha @rikiimuura @fairysungx @wonkixo @dreeki @strvieri @iluvhoonie @xiaoquanquans @yoshi17here @sunnysidesins @sumzysworld @chxrlz-mxr @imkyyse @rairaiblog @paradiseoflosers @llearlert @sirens-dreams @kukkurookkoo @firstclassjaylee @skatinrynk @celestiai0 @vveebee @roarr-ki @ilovewonyo @xjamiia

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writesvani · 16 days ago

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dear me | 12

lawyer! jungkook x privatechef! reader

SUMMARY: Once upon a time, Jungkook and you were everything. Best friends who shared every moment, every secret—except one: you were in love with him. But life changed. High school ended, real life began, and slowly, you drifted apart, the distance between you growing too wide to cross.

The end. Except it isn't.

One day, after a long day at work, you open your email to find a message from 13 years ago—written by your younger self. A letter you’d forgotten, sent by a service you paid to remind you of your youth, your love for him. As the emails keep on coming and you keep reading, the flood of memories hits you, and you realize something heartbreaking: you never stopped loving him.

But now, it’s too late. Jungkook is about to marry someone else. Or is he?

estranged childhood best friends-to-friends-to-lovers?

TWs: mental health struggles, intrusive thoughts, emotional distress, identity crisis, implied trauma, existential themes, societal pressure, dissociation, self-neglect, emotional numbness, depressive thoughts, internalized guilt, loss of autonomy, loneliness, codependency, fear of loss, unresolved grief, generational trauma, anxiety, perfectionism, self-worth issues

comment HERE for Dear Me taglist;

SERIES M.LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter

wc: 5,7k // date: 17th of July 2025

CHAPTER TWELVE — THE MORNING GHOSTS happy reading my gummies...

AN: hii everyone!! buckle up because this chapter is a whole mood — heavy as hell, so proceed with caution. first things first, serious question: do y’all still hate nina or nah? bahahahaha, no judgment either way (judges, just kidding). secondly, we’re diving deep into jungkook’s messy mind with his pov here — spoiler alert: he’s a totally unreliable narrator, so grab your skepticism hats! thirdly, dear me is far from over, so don’t go having any emotional meltdowns about where these characters are headed just yet, kay? hehehe.

i seriously missed you all so much, and writing this chapter was like therapy — taking all that dark energy and turning it into something real.

note goal for this chapter is 500 notes — i don’t even know if y’all are still vibing with dear me, but if this chapter drags you back in, then my job here is done! let’s gooooo!

Youth is led by imagination. Carried by dreams.

To be young is to believe in the impossible — to chase after every flicker of what could be. It means waking up with a thirst. A craving for something more. For a better life, a brighter future. A world still untouched by compromise.

Youth means freedom — to dream, to fail, to try again.

To imagine a thousand versions of yourself, all of them burning with potential.

And when you’re young, you think you’ve already cracked the code.

You think you know who you’ll become.

Until the world introduces itself.

Some people — the rare, golden few — grow into exactly who they dreamed they’d be. They survive the winds, the wreckage, the crueler parts of living. They bloom anyway, like something holy. Like fate smiled and decided they were the exception.

And then there are the others.

The ones swallowed by the storm.

The ones who became something entirely different.

The ones like Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook wakes up every morning at exactly 5:00 a.m.

No alarms. No prompting. His body just knows — as if the silence itself nudges him awake.

The room is still wrapped in that faint pre-dawn blue, a sliver of soft light spilling through the curtains. He blinks slowly, head turning to the side, and there she is.

Lying beside him. Peaceful. Breathing.

His eyes trace her features like a ritual he’s done a thousand times and still hasn’t grown tired of. The curve of her nose. The way her lashes kiss her cheekbones. The shape of her mouth — slightly parted as she dreams.

He doesn’t move at first. Just watches her.

Inhale.

Exhale.

She’s here.

She’s still here.

His hand moves almost on instinct, fingers reaching out to hover near her face — not quite touching, as if afraid the contact might break the spell. But then he does. Barely. Fingertips brushing over her cheek, the tip of her nose, the softness of her lips.

Alive.

Still alive.

A quiet exhale leaves his chest. Gratitude, heavy and constant, sits behind his ribs like something sacred.

Thank you.

He doesn’t say it out loud. He never does.

But he thinks it. Over and over. Every morning.

Thank you for letting her stay.

He shifts once more beneath the covers, reluctant to leave the warmth of her presence — the quiet comfort of her steady breathing. But eventually, his feet find the floor, cold against his skin, and habit guides him through the motions.

The bathroom light flickers on. The mirror greets him with tired eyes and a jaw shadowed with sleep. He brushes his teeth, washes his face, goes through the same steps he’s done a hundred mornings before — all while thinking of Nina.

Thank you for letting her stay.

He whispers it in his head like a prayer.

Again.

A small smile curves on his lips. It’s faint, but it’s real.

Then he heads out for his run.

No music. No distractions. Just him, the pavement, and the slow rise of the morning.

Maybe that makes him a psychopath. That’s what people always joke about.

But maybe it’s the only part of his day where the world finally shuts the hell up.

The streets are still half-asleep, the city blinking itself awake. His breath fogs up the air as he runs, steady and rhythmic, shoes slapping the concrete in quiet tempo. The breeze cuts sharp through his clothes, but it feels good — grounding.

Here, he can listen.

To the sound of wind rustling through trees.

To the beat of his own heart.

To the thoughts he avoids during every other moment of his day.

The ones that sneak up on him when he’s most still.

What if?

What could’ve been?

What never should’ve happened?

They linger in the corners of his mind like ghosts — unwelcome, but familiar. Sometimes they whisper. Sometimes they scream. Either way, he keeps running. It’s the only time he feels like the thoughts don’t win.

He’s made peace with it.

Or… learned to live beside it.

The truth is: Jeon Jungkook doesn’t belong to himself anymore. Not really.

He’s a mosaic of other people’s decisions — his mother’s warnings, his father’s absence, society’s expectations, and all the mistakes he’s been forced to carry.

That’s who he is now. A product of insanity, glued together with spit and survival.

And he lives like that. Every. Single. Day.

By the time he returns home, sweat clinging to his skin and breath coming in shallow bursts, the sun has fully risen.

He steps into the shower, lets the hot water rinse him clean — as if it can scrub away the noise in his head. He reaches for her shampoo, the familiar floral scent flooding the space. Lavender and vanilla. Nina.

And just like that, the heaviness begins to ease.

He hears the faint rustling of sheets from the bedroom. A yawn. The creak of the bed.

She’s waking up.

He closes his eyes beneath the stream of water.

She’s here.

She’s still here.

And that — for now — is enough.

“Morning, love,” Jungkook murmurs, stepping out of the bathroom, hair still wet, feet dragging across the floor like a sleepy child. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, tasting sleep and warmth. She giggles into it — like she always does — and her arms loop around his neck, pulling his damp body close.

“You’re so sappy sometimes,” she mumbles into his mouth, but she doesn’t stop kissing him.

He smiles against her lips, lets her melt into him, lets himself believe — just for a second — that this could last. That this version of them could stretch forever.

But the affection never lingers too long. It never does.

He breathes her in before the inevitable sting returns — the sharp edges of their reality. The thorns she carries that aren’t her fault. The ones that still pierce him anyway.

“Are you gonna let me get dressed, woman?” he teases, brushing a kiss to her cheek.

“Mmm,” she hums, clinging tighter. “Let’s just stay like this.”

Her voice softens into a small, childish whine. And something inside him aches.

Because that tone — that softness — takes him back. Back to when she was still just Nina. Before the grief. Before the silent empty spaces in their house and her chest. Before her smile needed to be faked.

Before they stopped being them.

He kisses her again. A little longer this time. He’s not ready to let go.

But he does anyway.

“I’m gonna make us smoothies, pretty,” he whispers, pulling away with one last look. He gets dressed, tugging on a hoodie, and heads to the kitchen.

She moves through her own morning routine while he blends kale, banana, and almond milk into something that tastes just barely like a compromise. She brushes her teeth. Stares at herself in the mirror longer than she should.

This is the part of the day where it starts to settle in for her — the weight. The ache. And he already hates himself for noticing it. For dreading it. But he can’t help it.

It’s not her fault.

When she finally emerges, she’s quiet, like she always is after she’s had time alone with her reflection.

“Looks good,” she says softly, wrapping her arms around his back, cheek pressed between his shoulder blades. He stops mixing, just lets her hold him.

She smells like home. Like familiarity.

“You don’t have to drink smoothies because of me,” she murmurs, guilt curling around her words like ivy. “Greens are good for immunity. I have to… but you don’t. It’s not like you love kale.”

“Nonsense,” he grins, glancing over his shoulder. “We do everything together. Even suffer through smoothie torture.”

She laughs — really laughs — and it’s like hearing her soul peek through the cracks. He wants to hold that sound in his hands. Wrap it in silk and never let it slip away again.

“You’re insane,” she chuckles, settling onto the kitchen stool.

The house is still quiet. His mom and brother are asleep. Outside, the world is waking up, but in here it’s still just them. The way it used to be.

For a second — just one — he lets himself think: Maybe today is a good day for her.

But he should know better by now.

“I was thinking…” she starts, voice careful.

Immediately, his heart stumbles in his chest. His thoughts scramble. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can already hear the faint static building in his ears — the flicker of Grey’s Anatomy in the background, playing like a safety blanket she wrapped herself in.

“I was doing some research,” she continues, “and I think… I think I could still do it.”

His hands freeze over the blender lid.

“One of my colleague’s patients has APS too,” she says slowly. “He’s handling her pregnancy. It’s going well. So far.”

Her eyes search for his. But he’s already miles away.

“Nins…” he says softly — her nickname falling from his mouth like something sacred. “It’s too dangerous.”

“It isn’t,” she snaps, desperate now. “If he tracked her pregnancy properly — the blood thinners, the regular ultrasounds, the clot prevention — we could do that too. We could try.”

He swallows hard. “Okay,” he says, too quickly, “But I don’t think it’s the right time.”

Her eyes darken. Her voice breaks.

“Oh, so it’s not the right time now, but a year ago — that was the perfect time, huh?”

His throat closes. “We didn’t know back then. We didn’t know you had APS. We didn’t know—”

“We didn’t know the baby was going to die in my stomach, Jungkook?” she cuts him off, venom and agony laced into every syllable. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t relive it every day?”

“I’m not saying that,” he says, reaching for her, begging with his voice. “Please—Nina—my mom’s upstairs—”

“I don’t give a fuck if she hears,” she spits. “What, are you embarrassed? Embarrassed your fiancée might never be able to give you kids?”

“Don’t,” he says quickly, shaking his head, “Don’t say that—”

“Or is it because of Y/n?” she blurts, the name like a slap between them. “We reconcile with her and suddenly you’re so fucking happy. Maybe it’s just convenient for you that I can’t even try anymore.”

His mouth opens. Nothing comes out.

Because what do you say to that?

What do you say when someone you love is unraveling in front of you, bleeding out grief and guilt and fear — and all you can do is stand there and watch?

“It’s not because of her, and you know it,” he says, forcing his voice to stay calm — steady, even though every part of him is cracking. Because it is the truth. But he understands why she'd think otherwise.

Lately, Jungkook has been quietly devouring himself with guilt. Letting thoughts of you slip into his mind more often than he should. He doesn’t act on them. Doesn’t say a word. But he knows Nina notices.

He knows.

And still… it's not about you. Not really.

“You’re not doing well, pretty,” he says gently, placing the smoothie in front of her. His voice is soft. Careful. Like if he says it too loud, she might shatter.

Her eyes flash with frustration, pain bubbling just beneath the surface.

“I know…” she says, barely above a whisper. “I just… fuck, Kook. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get you.”

“I know you do, but I just…” She exhales hard, blinking rapidly, like she’s trying to stop the tears from spilling. “I thought I was doing better, but lately…”

Her voice trails off. Silence stretches between them, tense and aching.

He reaches for her hand, squeezing it like maybe he can pull her back from wherever her mind is slipping.

“I’ve been horrible lately,” she says, her voice cracking. “Even when you were playing, I lashed out. Everything irritated me and—I hate it. I hate not being able to be there for you.”

Tears pool in her eyes, and Jungkook swallows hard.

He knows. Of course he knows.

But that doesn’t stop the unhappiness that’s been building in his chest, doesn’t erase the slow, gnawing ache that keeps him awake some nights.

And he hates himself for even thinking that.

“I just…” she whispers, voice trembling, “I just really want a child. And I thought maybe… if we got back what we lost—if we had that again—we could be us again.”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to keep herself together, but it’s all unraveling now. She’s not hiding anymore.

“Maybe it would be the way it used to be.”

Jungkook exhales, slow and heavy. His heart twists.

“We can’t do that to a kid,” he says softly, “and you know that.”

“I know,” she breathes, squeezing her eyes shut. “I know, Kook. Fuck. I know bringing a baby into this mess is wrong. I know having one just to fix us is wrong. I know trying to replace the baby we lost is worse.”

Her voice cracks again. A tear slips down her cheek.

“I’m trying. God, I’m trying. But I don’t even recognize myself anymore.”

She looks up at him then, eyes wide and lost. “If my therapist writes just a little too much… if she has to file a report, I could be suspended from work for a while. I could lose everything, Jungkook. I feel like I already am.”

Her voice is raw. Frustrated. Defeated.

He meets her gaze, the depth of her sorrow crashing into him like a wave. And all he can think to say is the one thing that still feels true.

“You didn’t lose me,” he says quietly, sincerely.

But she only gives him a sad smile. One of those smiles that says you don’t get it — and maybe he doesn’t.

“Oh, Jungkook,” she whispers, voice breaking completely, “we lost each other when we lost the baby.”

He doesn’t answer. Just pulls her into his arms, tucks her into his chest, holds her like it might make this hurt a little less.

He breathes her in — the scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin.

He wants to believe this is enough.

But deep down, he knows she’s right.

He did everything he could. The proposal, the move, the sacrifices. He came back to this town that haunts him with ghosts. Swallowed pieces of himself to stay strong for her. For them.

And she did everything too. She stayed. She loved. She let him reconnect with you — even when it hurt her — because she knew how much he needed a friend. Someone who reminded him of who he was before the grief swallowed him whole.

She carried his pain while dragging her own behind her like a shadow.

And somehow… somehow, it still feels like neither of them is doing enough.

Or maybe… they’re just too tired to keep pretending they’re okay.

So he hugs her close. Wraps his arms around her like maybe he can hold the broken pieces in place a little longer. Like maybe warmth is enough.

She lets him.

Her face presses into his chest, hands clinging to the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring her to the moment. And for a one tiny moment — it almost feels okay.

But it isn’t.

Not really.

Because it’s all starting to feel like layers.

Pretending.

Performing.

Smiling for others.

Acting like they’re still the couple people root for.

But inside, it’s quieter now. Colder. Like they’ve both started building distance just to survive.

And it’s slowly eating away at them.

Piece by piece. Word by word. Day by day.

They both feel it. That slow, inevitable unraveling — like their love is still there, but it is slowly fading.

Neither of them says it.

But the question hangs heavy in the air between their heartbeats.

Should we just let go?

They don’t speak it out loud — not yet.

But it’s there. In the way she sighs against his chest.

In the way his grip tightens like he's already afraid of the answer.

They hold on anyway.

But sometimes love isn’t enough.

When Jungkook starts his car and pulls onto the quiet morning street, he’s already bracing himself for the mess ahead. There’s a court hearing in less than an hour, and his mind runs through the checklist he’s memorized a thousand times over — case files, witness statements, last-minute evidence review.

It’s not that he’s passionate about the law. He doesn’t wake up excited to argue in front of a judge or pick apart testimonies. But damn it, he’s good at it. Really good. And sometimes, that’s enough.

But today, his focus wavers.

He thinks about you.

And just like that, guilt trickles in — subtle at first, like a crack in the windshield. Then it spreads fast.

Guilt for Nina, for the way he’s slowly pulling away from someone who’s stood by him through hell and worse. For entertaining thoughts or you — not just anyone — when he knows his relationship is already barely hanging on.

And guilt for you, too.

For the sharp words, the arguments. For the way he’s projected all his mess onto you when all you’ve ever done is try to help — even without knowing the full truth. You didn’t deserve that. Not even close.

But still… he needs to hear your voice.

It’s selfish. Pathetic, maybe. But lately, talking to you is one of the few things that grounds him. So he taps your name into his phone, connects to the car’s Bluetooth, and exhales the moment the line picks up.

“Wassup, loser?” your voice comes through, light and teasing. There’s background noise — a faint hum of the TV and maybe a coffee machine — and something in him softens immediately.

He laughs under his breath. “Don’t even ask. I’ve got a hearing in an hour. Zero motivation.”

“C’mon,” you say, playfully exasperated. “We both know you’ll crush it.”

“Obviously. I mean, I am Jeon Jungkook, after all.”

“Oh, okay, Mr. Full of Himself.”

“Shut up,” he grins, easing into your familiar rhythm. “It’s called confidence. You should try it sometime.”

“Confidence, my ass,” you fire back. “You’re just obnoxious.”

“Only to you,” he says, but there’s a warmth behind the words — a little quieter now, a little softer. Like he doesn’t want the moment to end.

And for a few seconds, it’s just that — peace, in the middle of the storm.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” you tease, your tone light, playful. He can hear you moving around on the other end — maybe shifting on your couch, maybe pacing. He imagines you sitting there, drinking your cappuccino or green tea, probably in those ridiculous cat socks you always wear.

“Obviously,” he says, eyes flickering toward the rearview mirror before switching lanes. “You’re my only friend who calls me a loser and gets away with it.”

“You make it too easy.”

He smiles, but it's not just amusement. It’s comfort. Something solid. Something that feels like home in the middle of all the noise.

“I swear,” you say suddenly, “you better not be calling just ‘cause you need moral support. Again.”

“I mean…” he starts, mock-dramatic, “if I lose this case, it’s your fault. You’re supposed to gas me up, remember?”

“Oh, don’t pull that on me,” you laugh, a real one this time, the kind that makes him loosen the grip on the wheel. “You’re a hotshot lawyer with a god complex. You’ll be fine.”

There’s a short silence, but it’s the good kind. The kind that sits comfortably between people who don’t need to fill every second with noise.

“You doing okay?” you ask, softer now. Less teasing.

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. He lets out a sigh, one he didn’t know he was holding.

“Not really,” he admits. “But this helps. Talking to you.”

You’re quiet for a second. “You can always talk to me, Jungkook. You know that, right?”

He nods, even though you can’t see him. “I know.”

Another pause. Then—

“You should come over tonight.”

“Yeah?” he says, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you reply. “We’ll order that greasy pizza you like. Watch a dumb movie. You can pretend you’re not emotionally constipated for two hours.”

He laughs, the sound catching him off guard. “You really do know me too well.”

“It’s a curse, trust me.”

“But you’re still here.”

You hum. “Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check.”

He’s turning into the parking lot now, pulling into a space and throwing the car into park, but he doesn’t hang up.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “For always picking up.”

“You’d do the same.”

Yeah, he thinks. He would.

“I would,” he echoes, then clears his throat. “So, um… how’s your day been? Besides obviously missing me.”

You snort. “Tragic. I spilled coffee on my last clean hoodie, the one with the cute little embroidered cherries. And to top it off, my neighbor saw me dragging out the trash in pajama bottoms with a hole right on my ass.”

He laughs — loud and unfiltered. “You’re such a disaster. I mean, it's honestly impressive at this point.”

“You love it,” you say breezily.

“Unfortunately.”

You smile, eyes flickering to the clock on the microwave. Still time before you have to head over to Ms. Kim’s for your afternoon prep work. You sigh.

“I have to get ready for work soon,” you mumble, pushing yourself off the floor. “Ms. Kim wants to try a new seaweed soup today and I’m not emotionally prepared to hear her say ‘not enough soul’ for the fifth time this week.”

“Tell her I said she can keep her soul and eat her soup too.”

“Very biblical of you.”

“I try.”

There’s a beat of silence, not awkward—just easy. Familiar.

“Are you okay, though?” he asks, more seriously now. “You’ve sound a little off.”

You sit back on the edge of your bed, curling a hand around your phone.

“I’ve been kinda… weird,” you admit. “I don’t know. Everything feels a little too much, but also like nothing’s really happening. Like I’m running around and standing still at the same time.”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully. “That’s called capitalism.”

You let out a quiet laugh.

“But no, seriously. I get it,” he says, voice gentler now. “It’s that numb-overwhelmed feeling. Like you’re doing everything right and still not really feeling anything.”

“Exactly.” Your voice is small.

“You don’t have to feel okay all the time, you know? Especially not with me. You can be tired, messy, soul-less-soup-making you. I’ll still every time.”

Your throat tightens, that unspoken comfort between you settling deep in your chest.

“You’re gonna make me cry in my tragic pajamas.”

“I support it,” Jungkook says with mock solemnity. “Just keep the camera off.”

You giggle despite yourself. “You’re not as funny as you think.”

“Yet you laugh at everything I say.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your apron from the doorknob. “Okay, I need to go before Ms. Kim calls me and tells me to chop onions with more emotional depth again.”

He laughs. “Tell her I’m the reason your emotions are fried.”

“I’ll just say I watched a depressing movie and now I can’t cook rice without sobbing.”

“I’ll allow it.”

You smile. “Okay. See you later? I have to start getting ready for work.”

“Yeah,” he says. “And hey… good luck with Ms. Kim’s soup critique.”

“Thanks. Pray for me.”

The hearing goes well. Of course it does. He’s Jeon Jungkook, after all. Sharp suit, sharper tongue. He’s good at everything he does — except handling his emotions.

And right now, he’s spiraling in them. He’s excited for tonight. For you. For the comfort you bring. But guilt scratches at his insides like a splinter under skin. What is he supposed to say to Nina? After the way their morning went, after how heavy everything has felt lately — how is it fair to disappear for a night and nurse his wounds in someone else’s company?

But it’s like the universe throws him a bone — Nina texts first.

pretty: jungkook, would it be okay if i went out with my colleagues tonight? i feel like i need to air out a bit.

He sighs. She’s always like this — careful, soft, and still thinking of him, even after everything.

him: you don’t need my permission to go out, baby.

pretty: i know. i just didn’t want to leave you alone after this morning.

She’s better than him. More mature. More honest. So he figures it’s his turn to try.

him: don’t worry. i was just about to text you, i heard from y/n. she invited me for a movie night.

There’s a short pause before her reply pops up.

pretty: good!! i’m glad you won’t be alone either.

him: have fun, baby. text me if you get the chance.

pretty: you too, jungkook.

And just like that, it’s settled. No fight. No lies. Just two people, each quietly drifting, trying to hold on without pulling the other under.

When you open the door of your apartment, you’re all smiley and happy. “Hey,” you say casually, moving so he can slide into your apartment.

“Hi, dumbass,” he mutters, kicking his shoes off like he’s done it a hundred times before.

You snort. “Charming, as always.”

He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it over the back of your couch, eyes roaming your place like he’s grounding himself with the familiarity. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You head into the kitchen, calling over your shoulder, “You’re lucky I bought snacks. And I didn’t start the movie without you.”

“See? That’s why I like you.”

He follows you, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, his posture a little slouched — the way it always is when he’s tired, or thinking too much.

“So,” you start, sliding a bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table, “how’d it go today?”

“The hearing?” He plops down on the couch with a sigh. “Fine. Better than expected.”

You sit next to him, tucking your legs under yourself. “That’s not very detailed, Counselor.”

He looks at you for a second — really looks — and then shrugs. “I killed it. Obviously.”

You smile. “There’s the ego.”

He doesn’t smile back. Instead, he stares ahead, voice softer this time. “It was just… a lot. You ever have one of those days where even the wins don’t feel like wins?”

You hum. “More often than I’d like to admit.”

He nods, like he expected that answer from you. “Nina and I had a fight. Or something close to it. I don’t even know. It just sucked.”

“Is she okay?” you ask gently.

“Yeah,” he says quickly. “Yeah, she went out with her coworkers. I think she needed the space too.”

There’s a pause. Not uncomfortable, but not easy either.

You break it. “I’m glad you came over.”

He turns to you, eyes softer now. “Me too.”

Then, grinning just a little, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Wanna watch Clueless or something with more blood and guts?”

He raises a brow. “Did you just say Clueless like it’s not cinematic perfection?”

Your grin widens. “I wanted to see if you’d admit to liking it.”

“I’m a feminist, thank you very much,” he says, already reaching for the remote. “Let’s watch Cher become a better person.”

You laugh. And for a second, things don’t feel heavy. They just feel like… the way they used to be.

The movie starts, and the familiar opening chords of Clueless fill the room. You both settle in, your bodies angled toward the screen, but your focus already starting to drift — mostly because of how close he is. His thigh brushes yours every time he shifts.

“You know,” you murmur, “I used to think Cher was the most annoying person ever.”

Jungkook scoffs. “She’s iconic. You were just a hater.”

“I was twelve.”

“And clearly tasteless.”

You throw a piece of popcorn at him, and he lets it bounce off his chest dramatically.

“Violence? Really?” he says. “You invite me here, feed me, and then assault me?”

“You called twelve-year-old me tasteless!”

“Well,” he says, smirking, “was I wrong?”

You roll your eyes but smile. For a while, it’s easy. The kind of easy you don’t get anymore. You both laugh at the same scenes. Quote the lines like it’s a script you memorized together years ago — because, well, you did. His shoulder presses into yours more than necessary. He doesn’t move away.

But it shifts. Quietly.

You're watching Cher get rejected by Christian when Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose.

“What?” you ask, glancing at him.

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

You pause the movie. “That wasn’t a ‘nothing’ sigh.”

He doesn’t look at you. “Can we just keep watching?”

You don’t. You let silence stretch a little until he finally glances your way.

“I’m not in the mood to talk about it,” he says, jaw tight.

“I didn’t even say—”

“You were going to,” he cuts you off. “I know that look. It’s the ‘talk to me about your feelings’ look.”

You frown. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

He leans back, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“But you said you and Nina fought.”

He exhales again, slower this time, like he’s trying to shake something off. His voice softens a notch. “Sorry. I just… I came here to not think about it, you know?”

You nod. “Got it.”

You press play again.

The movie plays on, background noise neither of you are really focused on. You're curled up on one side of the couch now, Jungkook on the other, a bowl of half-eaten popcorn between you. The silence is heavier now, no longer comfortable — thick like fog, sharp like glass.

You glance over at him. His jaw is clenched. Not in anger, not yet — more like he’s holding something back. His fingers tap rhythmically on the armrest, like the thoughts in his head are too loud for the room.

“Hey,” you say softly, nudging his foot with yours. “You okay?”

His eyes flick to you, barely a second, and then back to the screen. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. Just… you still seem off.”

“Not everything is a thing,” he mutters, voice clipped.

You blink at that, taken aback. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

He doesn’t respond right away. You sit with the silence a moment longer before trying again.

“It’s just… when you react like this it’s usually—”

“Drop it.”

You almost do. Almost. But something about the way his whole body has gone rigid makes you keep going. “Jungkook, I’m not trying to pry—”

“Yes, you are.”

That stops you cold.

He finally turns toward you, eyes darker than usual, intense. “You’re always trying to figure me out and help me. Newsflash: you can’t. Sometimes shit just sucks and no amount of late-night heart-to-hearts will change it.”

You swallow, heart picking up pace. “I didn’t know it sucked. You never said anything.”

His laugh is sharp, bitter. “Yeah, well. We don’t exactly go around broadcasting our pain. Sorry if I didn’t give you a fucking pamphlet.”

Your breath catches. “Jungkook…”

But he’s already sitting up straighter, his hands raking through his hair, the unraveling fully underway.

“Do you wanna know why we’ve been weird?” he snaps, eyes glinting, voice rising. “Do you really want the full fucking story?”

Your silence is answer enough.

“She was pregnant,” he says, each word like a stone thrown hard. “Nina. She was pregnant. We didn’t tell anyone because we wanted it to be a surprise. You know, something good for once.”

You blink, stunned.

“And then she lost it,” he continues, breathing hard now. “She lost the baby, and now she doesn’t talk to me, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do. I can’t fix it. I can’t fix her. And every day it feels like the end a little more.”

His voice cracks at the end, raw and too loud in the quiet room.

“Jungkook…” you say, your voice trembling, eyes burning as tears start to pool, blurring the shape of him in front of you. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t know.”

He just stares at you for a moment, the muscle in his jaw ticking, his lips parting like he wants to say something but can’t quite form the words. His eyes, dark and glinting, flicker away from yours, focusing on some invisible spot over your shoulder.

“I know you didn’t,” he finally mutters, voice low and scraped raw at the edges. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not. I feel like an idiot. Like I’m always saying shit without knowing anything.”

He exhales, a short humorless sound. “Well, that’s kind of your thing, isn’t it?” he says, trying for a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Talking too much. Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

You let out a weak laugh, even as your chest twists painfully. “Fuck you, Jeon.”

“Right back at you,” he murmurs. But then his expression softens, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. He lifts his hand, hesitating, then gently wipes the tear off your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m serious, though,” he says quietly. “Don’t… don’t blame yourself. You didn’t know. And I’m not… I’m not ready to talk about it anymore. Not yet.”

You nod, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “Okay,” you say. “But when you are… I’ll listen. You know that, right?”

He meets your eyes then, really meets them, and for a second it feels like the entire room goes still. He gives the smallest nod, his thumb lingering against your skin for a beat longer before he lets his hand fall.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I know.”

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @santiiagopopegarcia @jadaocon1 @asyr97 @gukieater @themwordsblog @whatevevrerr @amarawayne @tititania @guwol @reallygenerouskoala @bgfdcvbnjk @kyljjk @whoa-jo @taekritimin123 @minimoninini @upo1313 @polnaraffsrack @tatzzz-25 @orphicepiphany @coletaehyung @bjoriis @epiphany-n @kimyishin @eegyo @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @parkinglot-nights @mar-lo-pap @evrsncenewyork @jjeonjjk7 @minghaosimp @cerulean1riz @anumita-2007 @vantelover1306 @vynmin @nadzzzblog @jnghs @lachimolalajeon @joonwater @choijay-07 @notsevenwithyou @mononoaware16 @sky-23s-world @auroresce @sadgirlroo @arcadiaem @kokoandkookie @nakyra2 @kissyfacekoo @butterymin @kokoandkookie @park-littlecrane

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yeonmuse · 4 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗ Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like getting close to new people, but when a little girl shows up to his place of work in need of skating lessons he finds himself getting oddly close to her older sister. Now he’s starting to realize himself developing some uncontainable feelings while having to teach not only her little sister to skate, but her as well.

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Park Sunghoon ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are closed] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary ⛸️

ૢ CASTING ༉ ot7 Enhypen. THE GANG ot9 andteam, lesserafim chaewon, katseye manon. READERS FRIENDS boynextdoor woonhak, boynextdoor leehan, blackswan fatou, loona jinsoul, theboyz chanhee, txt yeonjun, pamalaaam as mari. HONORABLE MENTIONS theboyz sunwoo, soloist alexa.

⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . This is part of admins Enhypen University Special Event. This series also has slight connections to every series in said event so occasionally characters from the other members chapters may appear in this series as well.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED❕ 🏷️ | SERIES PREVIEW

ღ GENRE smau & written parts, fluff|slight angst, acquaintance to lovers, non idol enhypen, university enha, crack tweets & texts. 3rd person reader pov

CHARACTER PROFILES › ENHA & FRIENDS | READER & FRIENDS | HONORABLE MENTIONS

1 › prince of the ice

2 › let’s go bears

3 › UOA vs DVU

4 › take this L

5 › aint no party like a yeonjun party

6 › fuck you sim jaeyun and nishimura riki

7 › park sunghoon

8 › jinsouls shayla

9 › I’m sorry

10 › you did what ??

11 › case of the stolen teammates

12 › three thousand dollars

13 › @/princeoftheice followed you !

14 › failed ransom

15 › the zamwhati?

16 › according to google 🤓☝️

17 › am i literally stupid ?

18 › should I flea the country ?

19 › im cooked

20 › soft hands

21 › swimmin with the fishes

22 › snowed in

23 › Fuck you mother nature

24 › sweatpea?

25 › skate night

26 › yn and sunghoon sitting in a tree

27 › place your bets

28 › im so screwed

29 › this isnt a kdrama

30 › happy soobin day

31 › nurse shes out again

32 › mr lonely and the girl with infinite homework

33 › you like krabby patties don’t you squidward

34 › wonder about you

35 › ice cream you scream we’re all screaming

36 › jealously jealousy

37 › the club is calling

38 › liquid courage

39 › dont fuck this up

40 › sweater weather

41 › bitchless activities

42 › ending: Merry Christmas

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pitlanepeach · 2 months ago

Text

The Long Way Home I Chapter Ten

Oscar Piastri x Harper Grace (OFC)

Summary — When Harper, a kind girl with a guarded heart, meets rising karting star Oscar Piastri at their English boarding school, sparks fly.

It only takes one silly moment of teenaged love for their lives to change forever.

Warnings — Teenage love, growing up together, falling in love, teen pregnancy, no explicit scenes when the characters are underaged (obviously??), strong language, manipulative parents, past death of a parent, dyscalculia, hardly any angst, slice-of-life basically!

Notes — Cricket Oscar I repeat Cricket Oscar! Also... you know that whole 'ten chapters per era' thing? Yeah, scratch that. I'm just going with the vibes. They have more story to tell than I thought! We're almost at the end of Boarding School era though. Almost.

Wattpad Link | Series Masterlist

The outfield shimmered under the kind of sun you could almost believe was nearly summer, not just the British version where your nose still ran but your calves were burning.

Harper was stretched across the cricket pavilion steps, blazer bundled under her head, school skirt hitched to mid-thigh. Her sleeves were rolled up, and her legs — bare, pale, with a fresh constellation of freckles — were aimed straight at the sky like solar panels.

"Do you think it's working?" She asked, squinting behind her sunglasses.

Jane, sat beside her with her knees up and a blue slushie in one hand, sniffed. "Your thighs still look like milk, but your knees might be caramelising slightly."

"Excellent," Harper muttered. "Just what every girl dreams of. Caramelised knees."

On the pitch below, the Year 11 and 12 boys were playing some kind of friendly cricket match, which was loosely organised and entirely chaotic.

Oscar, Sam, and Matt were all in full whites — jumpers on, shirts rolled at the sleeves, trousers already grass-stained and untucked. Oscar bowled like he was in the Ashes. Sam swung the bat like he was in a pub fight. Matt had no idea what he was doing, but his mum was a big donator to the sports department, so he was on every team they had.

Jane slurped her drink loudly. "How do they look fit in cricket whites? Like. That shouldn't be hot. But it is."

Harper hummed in agreement. "Oscar looks so good."

"I'd let Sam ruin my life," Jane said mildly, tilting her sunglasses down her nose to peer over them. "Just for the record."

"That's a given," said Alfie from behind them.

He was leaning against the pavilion rail with his arms crossed, sunglasses on, his tie slung around his neck like a scarf. He looked like a bouncer at a VIP tanning party, watching the crowd.

Harper smirked. "You alright there, security?"

"I'm good," he said, not moving. "Just enjoying the weather. And making sure no one ogles the royal bump or the goth queen over here for too long."

Jane fluttered her lashes. "Aw, Alfie. That's so sweet."

"Don't get used to it," he muttered, but didn't deny it.

Two Year 10s walked by, gawking a bit too long at Harper's stomach. Alfie flipped them off without looking away from the field.

"Fuckin' hell," he muttered. "It's like they've never seen a pregnant girl before. Weirdos."

Harper rolled her eyes. "Leave them alone, Alf. Our sex-ed programme here is awful."

On the pitch, Oscar had just clean bowled a year 12 twice his size. He didn't celebrate. Just walked back to his mark like a soldier reloading his gun.

Sam, meanwhile, had pulled off a sliding catch and promptly started peacocking like a West End actor. Matt attempted a cartwheel and fell flat on his face.

The girls howled with laughter.

"They're so stupid," Jane said, beaming.

"They're our stupid, though," Harper replied.

"And you're stuck with them forever," Alfie added, which made Harper laugh so hard she snorted.

Oscar looked up at the sound — squinting toward the pavilion — and smiled when he saw her, quick and quiet and just for her. He pushed his hair out of his eyes, waved once, then turned back to the game.

Jane sipped her slushie. "God, you two are cute."

"Shut up," Harper said, but she was still smiling.

The sun drifted a little lower. Somewhere in the background, the school bell rang for Sunday chapel — and nobody moved.

For a moment, just one, they weren't kids dealing with exams and babies and contracts and races and aristocratic uncles and tabloid magazines.

They were just fifteen and full of sugar, with sun warmed skin, watching the boys they liked pretend to be grown-ups in too-big uniforms and too-small egos.

It was perfect. Brief. Messy.

Life.

—

The boys came trudging up the slope from the pitch victorious — Sam with his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, Matt skipping like he'd just won Eurovision, and Oscar... quiet, scuffed, a bit pink in the face and pretending he didn't notice Harper jogging down the last few steps to meet him.

"Oi, lovers!" Jane called, slapping her empty slushie cup onto Alfie's head. "We're going this way!"

Harper didn't care. She launched herself at Oscar, nearly knocking the water bottle out of his hand.

"You were so good," she said, wrapping her arms round his neck. "Seriously, I think I'm ovulating. I don't care that I already have a baby inside me."

"Jesus Christ," muttered Alfie, who had not asked to hear that.

Oscar went bright red. He kept his arms mostly around her waist but was clearly short-circuiting in front of his friends.

"Harps," he mumbled, shifting his grip awkwardly. "There's, like—people watching..."

"Let them watch," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. "You're so fit."

Sam passed by, clapping Oscar on the shoulder. "You're a proper stallion, mate. Well done."

"I hate all of you," Oscar muttered, voice muffled by Harper's hair.

Jane high-fived Matt for literally no reason. "Good effort, you absolute weapon."

Matt beamed. "I caught a ball with my face."

"And still the girls love you," Jane sighed. "Life's unfair."

As they reached the top of the hill, the group slowed — sweat-stained boys dragging their jumpers over their heads, the girls walking barefoot across the hot pavement in socks.

Alfie rolled his eyes as Harper kissed Oscar on the neck. "Get a room."

"We've got a room," Harper said sweetly. "Yours. I sleep in it four nights a week."

Sam gagged. "Alright, alright — leave some dignity on the grass."

Oscar was flustered beyond speech. He kissed Harper's temple, quickly, like a reflex, then shoved his kit bag higher on his shoulder and marched ahead of them.

The rest of the group, of course, followed him, cackling like feral hyenas.

By the time they reached the dorm block, Oscar had nearly made it to the stairwell alone — but Harper caught his wrist and tugged him back.

"You alright?" She asked, quieter now.

He glanced around — no one right next to them, just the echo of stomping boots on the stairs.

Then he nodded. "Yeah."

"You sure?"

Oscar looked at her, eyes soft now that it was just them. "I don't mind the kissing. Just...not when Sam's narrating it."

Harper grinned. "Sorry. It's the hormones."

"Okay," he said, leaning in and kissing her properly this time — quick, but real. "I like when it's just us."

She smiled. "Me too."

"Also I think Sam might throw up if he ever wakes up when we're — you know."

"Sucks to suck." She said.

Oscar huffed a laugh.

They walked the rest of the way up together, quietly bickering over whose turn it was to nick KitKats from the vending machine and which bed they were claiming tonight.

Down the hall, someone yelled that Matt had thrown a sweaty sock at the fire alarm, because Jane was already in the process of burning her toast.

Harper smiled at Oscar.

Oscar smiled at Harper.

—

The classroom windows were cracked open, but the air still tasted like too many bodies in one place — biro ink, cheap deodorant, and GCSE anxiety.

Harper sat at the back, her copy of Macbeth balanced on top of a closed ring binder. She had a pen tucked behind one ear, a half-drunk bottle of Lucozade on the desk, and one hand pressed to the base of her spine like she could physically will the ache away.

Miss Freeman was rambling up front about ambition and power, pacing between the whiteboard and her desk with her usual furious energy. Her voice was sharp, quick — trying to cram five months' worth of content into five minutes, as if the sheer velocity of her teaching could force it into their heads.

"Harper," she called without turning, "what's Macbeth's fatal flaw?"

Harper blinked, sat up straighter. "Uh — ambition?"

"Good. Expand."

She swallowed. "He... wants power more than he wants to do the right thing. Even though he's full of doubt, he still goes through with it. Because he wants it too much."

Miss Freeman turned and pointed her marker like a sword. "Yes. Wanting something doesn't make you worthy of it. Write that down."

The room scratched with the sound of pens on paper.

Harper tried to focus — genuinely, she did — but her lower back was killing her. Not sharp pain, just that low, constant pressure, like someone had tied a sack of flour to her spine and told her to sit still with it.

She shifted slightly in her chair, trying to stretch out discreetly, but the movement drew a glance from the boy next to her — Toby something, always smelled like orange body spray and stale chewing gum.

He leaned slightly away, like she might suddenly explode.

"You alright?" He asked, face pinched.

Harper raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine."

He stared at her stomach like it had just started glowing.

"It's not catching, you know," she added dryly, turning back to her notes.

Toby flushed. "Didn't say it was."

"Didn't have to."

He said nothing after that, except to edge his chair a full six inches away.

Harper bit back a sigh, pressed her fingers harder into the knot at her back, and underlined the word ambition three times.

Across the room, she caught Jane's eye — Jane raised both eyebrows and mimed stabbing herself with her pen.

Harper smiled, barely, then went back to her book.

The clock ticked too slowly. The air buzzed. And the ache in her spine crept up just a little further.

—

The school nurse's office was too bright, too white. Fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, sharp against Harper's already pounding head. She sat stiffly on the low cot near the radiator, both hands braced on either side of her bump. Her back hurt — a dull, dragging ache low in her spine that came and went like waves. Not agony, but not normal either.

She'd tried to ignore it in class. Kept her head down, revising and pretending the ache wasn't spreading like warm pressure across her belly. Until she couldn't anymore.

So she'd texted Oscar.

Can you come with me to the nurse? Not urgent just... a bit of pain.

He hadn't replied.

He'd shown up at the English classroom less than two minutes later, breathless, eyes wide.

Now he was sitting beside her, not saying much, hand closed tightly over hers. She could feel how tense he was in the way his thumb didn't move, how his leg bounced nervously even though he was trying not to fidget.

Mrs. Lyle, the school nurse, was kneeling by a cabinet, flipping through a stack of maternity leaflets she hadn't touched in probably two years. That's how long it'd been since the Haileybury baby.

"You said it's low back pain? Tightening?"

Harper nodded. "Sort of like... pulling. Like pressure. Not sharp, but weird."

Oscar's fingers tightened slightly around hers.

Mrs. Lyle stood and crossed to them, sitting down on the little stool by the cot. "Sounds like Braxton Hicks. You're about what — thirty weeks now?"

"Almost thirty-two," Oscar said, before Harper could answer.

Mrs. Lyle smiled softly. "Right. That makes sense, then. These start around now — practice contractions, essentially. Not actual labour, but your body's working out the muscles. Like rehearsal, in a way."

"But it hurt," Harper said, quietly. "I mean, not properly. But it felt like..."

"Something more serious?" The nurse finished for her, nodding. "It's normal to worry. It's good you came in."

Oscar looked down, jaw clenched. "So it's not — she's okay? The baby's okay?"

"Everything sounds textbook," Mrs. Lyle said calmly. "Nothing to panic about. She needs rest, hydration, and someone to carry her backpack for the rest of the day."

"Oscar always carries my bag." She said, automatically. Then she let out a breath, trying not to sag too visibly into Oscar's side. But he felt it anyway, leaned a little closer like it was instinct. His thumb finally moved, brushing against the edge of her knuckle. "I didn't know what to do," she said quietly.

"You scared me," he replied.

"I thought maybe it was real. Like — too early. I thought something was wrong."

"I know," he said. "I thought that too."

The nurse busied herself across the room, giving them quiet.

Oscar stared at the floor, then looked at her again. "I'm going to switch English periods. So I'm with you most of the day. Only class we'll have separate is Maths."

"Thanks." She whispered.

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, his hand lingering at her jaw. "I keep thinking I'm going to mess this up. Like there'll be a moment, and I won't know what to do, and you'll be hurting, and I'll just... freeze."

Harper turned toward him, forehead brushing his. "You didn't freeze, though. You ran out of class and came to get me."

"I got detention for it," he muttered.

"Worth it?"

"Obviously."

She smiled faintly, and for a second it almost didn't hurt anymore.

Mrs. Lyle came back with a bottle of water and some instructions about warning signs. Harper nodded through them, Oscar listening like it was life-or-death briefing.

Later, when they walked back toward the dorms together, Harper's bag slung over Oscar's shoulder and her hand in his hoodie pocket, she felt it again — the ache, the low pull in her back.

But she breathed through it. Didn't let herself panic.

Oscar stopped, watched her, gave her a minute.

And when she gave him a tiny little nod, they started walking again.

—

Oscar's pit garage was alive with movement — laptop screens glowing, air compressors hissing, the sharp scent of tyre rubber and brake dust thick in the air. The mechanics were everywhere, half-in and half-out of red team jackets, their radios clipped to belt loops, voices clipped and fast in the way only race days made necessary.

Harper sat on a crate in the back corner, half out of sight, a bottle of orange Lucozade in one hand and Oscar's helmet balanced beside her. She was wearing his old team fleece, zipped to the chin. Her legs ached from walking too much around the paddock that morning, and the baby — thirty-three weeks now, she kept reminding herself — was sitting weirdly on her spine. But none of that mattered.

She'd learned the names of all the engineers now. Matteo, who let her plug in tyre temp data to practice her number handling skills; Hugo, who always made her tea when it rained; and Ana, who'd secretly slipped her a granola bar the first time she nearly fainted from the garage heat.

They didn't look at her like she was a distraction.

They looked at her like she belonged.

"You're back early, Harps," Hugo said, passing her a stack of pit notes. "Track walk not worth the dust?"

She smiled faintly. "It was just Oscar doing that thing where he looks at gravel and pretends he understands how it affects his drive."

"Funny kid. Acting like he doesn't just drive like a lunatic every weekend and somehow make it work," Matteo added, grinning.

Harper smiled wider, adjusting the fleece over her bump. "We like lunatics."

There was the clatter of boots on metal and a burst of voices outside the canopy. Then Oscar pushed in through the side flap of the tent, tugging off his headset, face flushed and bright-eyed. His hair stuck up on one side, and he looked like he'd just run three miles.

He spotted her instantly.

"Harper—" His voice was breathless. He crossed the garage fast, past the prep bench, around the team radio desk, and knelt beside her like he couldn't get close enough fast enough. "Come here. Two seconds. Just—"

She blinked, startled, letting him pull her up by the hand and half-drag her toward the quiet side of the tent, near the stacks of spare slicks and a half-drunk bottle of Red Bull.

Oscar looked like he might combust.

She tilted her head. "You alright?"

He looked at her for a second like he was checking if it was real.

Then he said, "Prema wants me. For F3."

Her mouth parted.

"What?"

He nodded, quickly, still flushed, eyes almost glassy with adrenaline. "Just talked to Marco. They want me. Already. Like—next season. They said I'm tracking above expectations. They want to get me in the F3 car before the year's out. Testing. Maybe a free practice."

"Wait—wait, wait," Harper said, stepping in closer. "Oscar, are you—are you serious?"

"I think I'm going to cry or be sick," he said, but he was smiling, wide and unguarded.

She grabbed his face with both hands, stared at him like she was trying to press the words into his skin. "You're going to F3."

"Yeah."

"You're actually—"

"Yeah."

"Oh my God." She let out something between a laugh and a sob and kissed him. It wasn't a careful kiss. It was messy, hot with nerves, almost desperate — the kind of kiss that comes after months of half-holding your breath and hoping everything you're building doesn't slip through your fingers.

When they broke apart, Harper kept her forehead against his.

"You deserve this," she whispered. "You've worked so fucking hard, Osc. This isn't luck. This is you."

He didn't say anything at first. Just closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, they were clear and determined.

"I want it," he said. "I want it bad. But I'm scared that—"

"Don't," she said. "We'll make it work."

Someone called Oscar's name from the garage entrance.

He kissed her again, faster this time, and muttered, "Gotta go."

"Win this one," she said, still breathless.

"I will."

As he jogged back to his engineer, helmet under one arm, Harper stayed near the stack of tyres, heart hammering in time with the noise of the circuit starting to come alive beyond the paddock.

F3.

It wasn't just an idea anymore.

It was happening.

Step by step, formula by formula.

Her boyfriend was going to be a world champion one day.

And she'd be right next to him when it happened.

—

The computer lab always smelled like dust and old wires, the kind of cold room that was either boiling from server fans or freezing from the busted window. Today it was somewhere in between.

Harper sat in the corner by the window, legs tucked under her in the school's worst office chair, a hoodie tugged over her bump and a stubborn frown etched into her face.

"Line thirty-six," Matt said, leaning over her screen from the side. "You've got a missing semicolon."

She groaned and dropped her head to the desk.

"I hate JavaScript. I hate the entire concept of JavaScript. It's all chaos and no laws."

"You're learning React, which is basically JavaScript on crack."

"I chose this language because it was meant to be user-friendly."

Matt looked at her with wide eyes. "It's not. It lies."

Harper sat back up, cracking her knuckles. "Whatever. It's a project site, not a space launch. It just needs to work."

On her screen: a rough landing page — bold, accessible design, a mockup portfolio header, a contact form that mostly worked, and a bright pink font that she'd argued about with her teacher twice already.

The title read: Harper Grace Whiatt | Front-End Developer.

"You're not even doing this for class anymore, are you?" Matt asked, squinting at the layout.

"Nope," she said, popping her lips. "I've been attending this accredited course online, doing the certification stuff. Once I get my GCSEs out of the way and baby is born, I'm going to spend all my free time on it. Maybe go freelance. Build stuff."

Matt blinked. "Like... actual websites? For people?"

"Yeah," Harper said, tapping her space bar like it owed her money. "There's this girl I follow on Instagram — she's eighteen, self-taught, does Squarespace templates and Shopify setups, makes more than a junior lawyer. I figured, you know... it's smart. Futureproof."

She said it like a defence. Like she had to prove to everyone — to herself — that she wasn't going to be the story people had already decided for her.

"You don't have to," Matt said after a moment. "Prove anything. We already know you're clever. And, like. Kind of terrifying."

"Aw," Harper said. "You're sweet." Then she said . "Ever say that again and I'll launch this keyboard at your head."

Matt rolled his eyes, but grinned. "You're going to be good at it."

She looked back at the screen, the site stubby and full of placeholder text, but real. Hers.

"I want to build stuff people actually use," she said, softer now. "Not just pretty things. Useful ones. That don't assume you've got perfect eyesight or that you know where all the buttons are."

"Accessible design?" He asked, a little impressed.

Harper shrugged. "Bit ironic, right? Couldn't pass GCSE Maths if you paid me, but give me a CSS framework and I can make your entire checkout system retina-ready."

"You're the only person in this school who knows what 'retina-ready' means."

She grinned. "Maybe."

A message pinged on her screen — a Discord notification from a dev server she'd joined the week before. Someone had commented on her mock portfolio build: Nice typography choices. Would love to see more of your work.

She stared at it for a second.

Maybe this wasn't some pretend future. Maybe this was real.

Her world didn't have to shrink. It could shift. Change shape. But it didn't have to vanish.

Her laptop fan wheezed and clicked. She opened her browser, pulled up her GitHub, and started typing.

—

Oscar was lying flat on his bed, hair still wet from his post-training shower, eating Haribo one by one like they were sacred. Harper was on the floor cross-legged, MacBook balanced on her knees, pyjama sleeves pulled over her hands. Her bump curved gently under the fabric, resting against her thighs.

The screen glowed blue in the dim light.

"You're not allowed to look yet," she said, waving him off.

"It's going to be my website," Oscar muttered, tossing a Haribo into his mouth and missing.

Sam snorted from the other side of the room. "To be fair, you couldn't design a website if your life depended on it, Piastri. You'd just put a picture of your face and 'vroom' underneath."

Oscar threw a sock at him.

Harper kept typing.

They'd been working on it — quietly, between revision and races and everything else — for the last two weeks. He hadn't told anyone yet. Mark knew, obviously. And Alfie, by accident, when Harper asked if anyone had high-res images from Oscar's most recent F4 race.

They'd all gone to watch him from the grandstands like normal fans. Sam, Alfie, Jane, Matt — and obviously Harper. It'd been like a weird, fun little school trip.

Now the website was almost done.

"Okay," Harper said finally. "Try it."

Oscar leaned over and squinted at the screen. Then blinked.

The landing page was sharp and minimal, black background, bold white type. A full-width photo of him racing — visor down, car catching the light just right — stretched across the top.

OscarPiastri.com

"Whoa."

She kept scrolling for him. Stats. Race results. An embedded video reel Mark had helped them trim. A bio she'd bullied him into writing. Sponsor contact section. News feed. Instagram integration. All responsive. All accessible.

"You made this?" He said, eyebrows high.

She nodded. "Built from scratch. No Wix bullshit. I even set up the CMS so Mark can update the results and press stuff without breaking anything."

He just stared. "It's so... professional."

"I am professional."

Oscar looked properly impressed. Then a little overwhelmed. "You're literally fifteen."

"Sixteen in, like, nine weeks," she corrected, deadpan.

He reached for her, pulled her gently up onto the bed beside him, and kissed her temple.

"Thank you," he said, soft.

"'s nothing," she said, tucking herself under his arm. "I liked doing it. Made me feel like I'm... part of it."

"You are part of it."

She didn't say anything. Just closed the lid of her laptop and leaned against him.

Across the room, Sam looked up. "Wait. If you're building sites now... think you could make me one for my rap career?"

Harper didn't even blink. "No. I want nothing to do with that disaster."

Oscar laughed.

Sam sulked.

—

The early morning light filtered through the cracked dorm window, casting a pale glow on the cluttered room. Harper sat on the edge of her bed, fiddling nervously with the hem of her jumper. Oscar leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, eyes tired but trying to look calm.

"First one," Harper muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

Oscar shrugged, trying for casual. "Biology. Easy, yeah?"

She snorted. "You're joking. You've seen my biology notes."

He stepped closer, dropping his voice. "Hey, you've got this. We've done the revision, the late nights, the panic... now it's just another test."

Harper bit her lip. "I'm scared. What if I mess it up? What if I let everyone down?"

Oscar crouched down, grabbing her hands. "No one's expecting perfection. And what does a biology result matter anyway?"

She squeezed his hands, trying to hold onto that steady feeling. "Thanks, Osc."

He smiled, awkward and sincere. "We celebrate. Whatever happens."

She nodded, took a deep breath. "Okay. I think I'm ready."

He pulled her into a quick hug, warm and tight. "Go smash it."

NEXT CHAPTER

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